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 Iraq and from Lille.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Morten Harket tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delta 5 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
Talk Talk,
Scientists,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Public Enemy,
Camouflage,
Jesper Dahlback,
Barry Ungar,
E-Dancer,
Desert Stars,
The United States of America,
Symarip,
Ken Boothe,
Eddi Front,
The Fuzztones,
The Last Poets,
David Bowie,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Dave Clark Five,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Public Image Ltd.,
Siglo XX,
Kenny Larkin,
T.S.O.L.,
Arcadia,
Alton Ellis,
The Moody Blues,
Negative Approach,
Minny Pops,
Joensuu 1685,
The Wake,
Man Parrish,
Warsaw,
The Invisible,
Shuggie Otis,
Charles Mingus,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kayak,
Big Daddy Kane,
Blancmange,
Godley & Creme,
Hardrive,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Peter & Gordon,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Idris Muhammad,
Rites of Spring,
Bluetip,
Los Fastidios,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Glenn Branca,
Das Ding,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Nick Fraelich,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gastr Del Sol,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Grass Roots,
Lakeside,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.