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 Malawi and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Big Daddy Kane to the jazz 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 the Sonics. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Roxette,
Derrick May,
Quantec,
Harpers Bizarre,
Magazine,
Duran Duran,
Donald Byrd,
Derrick Morgan,
the Association,
Crime,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Faust,
Sound Behaviour,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bill Wells,
The Evens,
Tim Buckley,
The Saints,
Eddi Front,
Pole,
The Neon Judgement,
Rekid,
Barrington Levy,
Hoover,
Animal Collective,
Maurizio,
Q and Not U,
8 Eyed Spy,
Henry Cow,
Alice Coltrane,
The Barracudas,
Rhythm & Sound,
The American Breed,
Pantytec,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Soft Machine,
Organ,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mark Hollis,
Alphaville,
Symarip,
Harmonia,
Sonny Sharrock,
Hardrive,
The Leaves,
Nils Olav,
Goldenarms,
The Young Rascals,
Cymande,
The Buckinghams,
Crooked Eye,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sonic Youth,
Connie Case,
Swans,
Siglo XX,
Khruangbin,
Delta 5,
Swell Maps,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.