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 Bhutan and from Hong Kong.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Johnny Clarke to the punk 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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All EPMD tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warren Ellis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
Brand Nubian,
Agent Orange,
Freddie Wadling,
Tom Boy,
Donald Byrd,
Ultra Naté,
Niagra,
Yellowson,
B.T. Express,
Gichy Dan,
Vladislav Delay,
ABBA,
Sex Pistols,
Reagan Youth,
Mary Jane Girls,
Curtis Mayfield,
Chris Corsano,
Excepter,
These Immortal Souls,
Flash Fearless,
Wings,
Lalo Schifrin,
Intrusion,
Colin Newman,
Joyce Sims,
Arab on Radar,
Organ,
Quadrant,
Rapeman,
Harry Pussy,
Gang of Four,
Popol Vuh,
Janne Schatter,
The Misunderstood,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bizarre Inc.,
Godley & Creme,
Buzzcocks,
The Leaves,
Morten Harket,
The Blues Magoos,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Doobie Brothers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kayak,
Black Sheep,
Don Cherry,
Minor Threat,
The Monks,
The Zeros,
Scratch Acid,
In Retrospect,
Ronnie Foster,
AZ,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Divine Comedy,
Moby Grape,
Darondo,
Schoolly D,
The Sound,
Sonny Sharrock,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.