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 Cambodia and from Mumbai.
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 Johannesburg and Portland.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ultra Naté to the punk 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 Delta 5. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Underground Resistance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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 Mighty Diamonds,
Black Bananas,
Hot Snakes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Moebius,
Chrome,
H. Thieme,
the Soft Cell,
Soft Machine,
Youth Brigade,
Echospace,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
DJ Style,
Magma,
Anakelly,
The Angels of Light,
Eden Ahbez,
Pere Ubu,
CMW,
Thompson Twins,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Fela Kuti,
Liliput,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Qualms,
Crash Course in Science,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Fall,
Mandrill,
Whodini,
Stiv Bators,
Moby Grape,
Stetsasonic,
Ten City,
Barbara Tucker,
Warsaw,
Maurizio,
Clear Light,
A Certain Ratio,
Susan Cadogan,
Bauhaus,
Popol Vuh,
The Gun Club,
Unrelated Segments,
Tim Buckley,
Fatback Band,
Aaron Thompson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Chris Corsano,
Underground Resistance,
Tres Demented,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kas Product,
Sixth Finger,
Jeru the Damaja,
Warren Ellis,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rufus Thomas,
The Mojo Men,
Brand Nubian,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.