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 Sweden and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb 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 Saccharine Trust 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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Suicide,
Colin Newman,
The Gun Club,
Radiohead,
Steve Hackett,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Eden Ahbez,
The Happenings,
Bronski Beat,
Alton Ellis,
Vladislav Delay,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Monks,
Mr. Review,
The Smiths,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jeru the Damaja,
Dawn Penn,
Minnie Riperton,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Byron Stingily,
the Bar-Kays,
David McCallum,
Chris Corsano,
Scratch Acid,
Swans,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Moody Blues,
Malaria!,
Symarip,
Slave,
Johnny Clarke,
The Slackers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Hasil Adkins,
Grey Daturas,
Jeff Lynne,
Bootsy Collins,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jacques Brel,
Cal Tjader,
Amon Düül II,
Babytalk,
Matthew Halsall,
D'Angelo,
Moebius,
Little Man,
The Blues Magoos,
Funkadelic,
Severed Heads,
Whodini,
AZ,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Stooges,
the Slits,
Y Pants,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.