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 Oman and from Spokane.
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 Toronto and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum 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 New Order to the dance 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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pop Group,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Blues Magoos,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lower 48,
Prince Buster,
Rites of Spring,
F. McDonald,
Kaleidoscope,
Marine Girls,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The American Breed,
Matthew Halsall,
Connie Case,
Mark Hollis,
Anthony Braxton,
Mission of Burma,
Khruangbin,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dead Boys,
Magma,
Gong,
Flamin' Groovies,
Fear,
Terrestrial Tones,
Warsaw,
Theoretical Girls,
Joy Division,
The Gun Club,
Guru Guru,
Aural Exciters,
Ultravox,
Bang On A Can,
Trumans Water,
The Gap Band,
Interpol,
10cc,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Wake,
The Real Kids,
Niagra,
Alison Limerick,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
DJ Sneak,
Tommy Roe,
Lightning Bolt,
Sound Behaviour,
The Moody Blues,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Saints,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
X-102,
Hashim,
The Moleskins,
Rekid,
The Misunderstood,
Mars,
Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force.
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.