Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Botswana and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Louis and Bebe Barron to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dark Day,
Mandrill,
The American Breed,
Fugazi,
Scrapy,
Nik Kershaw,
Oblivians,
In Retrospect,
Pussy Galore,
Suburban Knight,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Martian,
Essential Logic,
Ken Boothe,
8 Eyed Spy,
Animal Collective,
Nas,
Ronnie Foster,
Avey Tare,
Quando Quango,
Q65,
U.S. Maple,
Arthur Verocai,
Nick Fraelich,
Donald Byrd,
Technova,
Wally Richardson,
Kerri Chandler,
The Modern Lovers,
Au Pairs,
Ralphi Rosario,
Stereo Dub,
Skaos,
Ultravox,
The Velvet Underground,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Soulsonic Force,
Jeff Mills,
Jandek,
The Smiths,
Black Moon,
The Black Dice,
Al Stewart,
Lightning Bolt,
Letta Mbulu,
Jacques Brel,
Marc Almond,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Mantronix,
Pagans,
Organ,
Aloha Tigers,
Chris & Cosey,
Bobby Womack,
Nils Olav,
Amon Düül II,
Ice-T,
Barrington Levy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Average White Band,
The United States of America,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.