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 Namibia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Rod Modell to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective 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 clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Josef K record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Evens,
Rosa Yemen,
Boz Scaggs,
Cal Tjader,
Symarip,
Wings,
The Gun Club,
Gang Gang Dance,
Mission of Burma,
Lou Reed,
The Alarm Clocks,
Technova,
The Fall,
Letta Mbulu,
Animal Collective,
The Associates,
Pulsallama,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Grandmaster Flash,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pylon,
Wolf Eyes,
Ronan,
Andrew Hill,
Ultravox,
Sex Pistols,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Flash Fearless,
The Standells,
Anakelly,
Dawn Penn,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Roxy Music,
R.M.O.,
Joe Smooth,
The Remains,
Joensuu 1685,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Black Flag,
Bootsy Collins,
Hoover,
Absolute Body Control,
Alton Ellis,
Scan 7,
Khruangbin,
Bush Tetras,
Soul Sonic Force,
Donald Byrd,
Dave Gahan,
Faraquet,
Lucky Dragons,
Zero Boys,
Arab on Radar,
Marmalade,
Television Personalities,
Electric Prunes,
The Neon Judgement,
Wire,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.