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 Uganda and from Paris.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Cosmic Jokers to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Zero Boys. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Roger Hodgson,
Archie Shepp,
48th St. Collective,
The Smoke,
Basic Channel,
Malaria!,
Wings,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jeff Mills,
Eve St. Jones,
8 Eyed Spy,
John Lydon,
Liliput,
Lebanon Hanover,
Index,
Crispy Ambulance,
Los Fastidios,
Severed Heads,
Hasil Adkins,
The Blues Magoos,
The American Breed,
Panda Bear,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lungfish,
Khruangbin,
Rapeman,
Sun Ra,
Agitation Free,
The Martian,
Terry Callier,
The Moody Blues,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Young Marble Giants,
Neu!,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Quantec,
The Doobie Brothers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bluetip,
Bang On A Can,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Alphaville,
Average White Band,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Thee Headcoats,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pulsallama,
Ultra Naté,
KRS-One,
Au Pairs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Television Personalities,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
June of 44,
Tres Demented,
The Slits,
Spandau Ballet,
The Mojo Men,
A Certain Ratio,
Eden Ahbez,
Sandy B,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.