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 South Sudan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Cairo.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Rufus Thomas to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Jerry's Kids,
Aural Exciters,
Subhumans,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Offenders,
Sun Ra,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sound Behaviour,
Panda Bear,
Mark Hollis,
Cheater Slicks,
Gichy Dan,
Dead Boys,
Susan Cadogan,
Moby Grape,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Oblivians,
Severed Heads,
Glenn Branca,
the Fania All-Stars,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Joyce Sims,
Eli Mardock,
Wire,
Sister Nancy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Association,
Gang Green,
Agent Orange,
The Trojans,
Surgeon,
The Red Krayola,
KRS-One,
Country Teasers,
Swans,
June of 44,
New Age Steppers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
James White and The Blacks,
Thee Headcoats,
Bobby Byrd,
Funky Four + One,
A Certain Ratio,
Vladislav Delay,
Lakeside,
Erasure,
Ten City,
Michelle Simonal,
Bauhaus,
The Searchers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Associates,
Moss Icon,
Masters at Work,
Ludus,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.