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 San Marino and from Lille.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Technova to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Quando Quango,
Banda Bassotti,
DNA,
Vainqueur,
Loose Ends,
The Knickerbockers,
Morten Harket,
Gichy Dan,
The Slackers,
Scientists,
Roxy Music,
Aswad,
The Red Krayola,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bobby Womack,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Seeds,
X-101,
Eric B and Rakim,
Niagra,
The Golliwogs,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fatback Band,
Mary Jane Girls,
Black Bananas,
Porter Ricks,
Oneida,
Harpers Bizarre,
Freddie Wadling,
Faraquet,
John Coltrane,
Erykah Badu,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Buckinghams,
Eddi Front,
T. Rex,
Gong,
Excepter,
The Toasters,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gang of Four,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Cybotron,
These Immortal Souls,
Joey Negro,
Funkadelic,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Trojans,
Arab on Radar,
Byron Stingily,
Youth Brigade,
Bill Near,
Andrew Hill,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Anakelly,
Thee Headcoats,
Camouflage,
Tres Demented,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.