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 Lesotho and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sonny Sharrock to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
Malaria!,
Lungfish,
48th St. Collective,
Monks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Magma,
Inner City,
Camberwell Now,
Andrew Hill,
Boz Scaggs,
Slick Rick,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jeru the Damaja,
Schoolly D,
The Five Americans,
Fatback Band,
The Misunderstood,
The Slackers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Nirvana,
Jesper Dahlback,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Adolescents,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bauhaus,
Heaven 17,
Depeche Mode,
Alice Coltrane,
Infiniti,
Country Teasers,
the Association,
KRS-One,
John Foxx,
Aural Exciters,
Maurizio,
The Cure,
Junior Murvin,
Hot Snakes,
Kevin Saunderson,
Big Daddy Kane,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Unrelated Segments,
Gong,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dennis Brown,
Tommy Roe,
Quantec,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Altered Images,
Pere Ubu,
Tears for Fears,
Aaron Thompson,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Dead C,
The Cowsills,
The Kinks,
Kayak,
Joe Finger,
Ituana,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.