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 Chile and from Madrid.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 snare 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 X-102 to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Idris Muhammad,
The Music Machine,
Max Romeo,
Pere Ubu,
Trumans Water,
Tomorrow,
Vainqueur,
Alphaville,
U.S. Maple,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Scan 7,
Desert Stars,
Hot Snakes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Minny Pops,
The Velvet Underground,
Barrington Levy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Parry Music,
The Residents,
Mars,
Neil Young,
The Gun Club,
Freddie Wadling,
The Trojans,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bush Tetras,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Oneida,
Mr. Review,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Erykah Badu,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
DJ Style,
Interpol,
a-ha,
Rosa Yemen,
Gastr Del Sol,
Make Up,
Lower 48,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Grass Roots,
Thee Headcoats,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Marshall Jefferson,
Tres Demented,
Warsaw,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Dirtbombs,
Piero Umiliani,
The Toasters,
Dead Boys,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Silicon Teens,
Lindisfarne,
Ultimate Spinach,
Reuben Wilson,
the Swans,
The Sound,
Pussy Galore,
The Gap Band,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.