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 Niger and from Lagos.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Can to the grunge 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Mark Hollis,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Panda Bear,
Johnny Osbourne,
Andrew Hill,
The Real Kids,
Television,
Jandek,
Liliput,
Scott Walker,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Busters,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sandy B,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Infiniti,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Golliwogs,
Hasil Adkins,
Grey Daturas,
Kerri Chandler,
Ponytail,
Animal Collective,
Bauhaus,
Eli Mardock,
Archie Shepp,
Sexual Harrassment,
Spandau Ballet,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gang of Four,
Dennis Brown,
The Modern Lovers,
Agent Orange,
The Index,
Kerrie Biddell,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Outsiders,
Big Daddy Kane,
Harry Pussy,
Pussy Galore,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dead Boys,
Tres Demented,
Interpol,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Robert Wyatt,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Barracudas,
Nas,
The Stooges,
Traffic Nightmare,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
F. McDonald,
Barry Ungar,
Little Man,
The Standells,
Lungfish,
Althea and Donna,
Barrington Levy,
The Seeds,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.