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 Malaysia and from Calgary.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Morten Harket,
Reuben Wilson,
Sister Nancy,
the Germs,
Faust,
Magma,
KRS-One,
Angry Samoans,
Dawn Penn,
Aaron Thompson,
Neil Young,
ABBA,
Al Stewart,
These Immortal Souls,
Junior Murvin,
Siglo XX,
Amon Düül,
Spoonie Gee,
Fugazi,
Barbara Tucker,
Rakim,
Shoche,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Crime,
Rhythm & Sound,
Byron Stingily,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Stockholm Monsters,
Janne Schatter,
Grandmaster Flash,
Black Bananas,
Wings,
Tommy Roe,
New Order,
Rod Modell,
Slick Rick,
Sarah Menescal,
the Soft Cell,
The American Breed,
The Pretty Things,
Anthony Braxton,
Easy Going,
Pulsallama,
Big Daddy Kane,
Smog,
Spandau Ballet,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gang of Four,
Sandy B,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jacob Miller,
Warren Ellis,
Gichy Dan,
Wolf Eyes,
Eden Ahbez,
Minor Threat,
John Coltrane,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Doobie Brothers,
Niagra,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.