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 Cyprus and from Johannesburg.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Copenhagen.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Masters at Work to the dance 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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
Soft Cell,
Das Ding,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Human League,
Organ,
The American Breed,
La Düsseldorf,
Byron Stingily,
The Real Kids,
John Coltrane,
Rhythm & Sound,
Adolescents,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Dave Clark Five,
Cal Tjader,
Donald Byrd,
Suburban Knight,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
UT,
Ralphi Rosario,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Anakelly,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Crash Course in Science,
The Saints,
DJ Sneak,
E-Dancer,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Swell Maps,
Sun City Girls,
Terrestrial Tones,
Accadde A,
Buzzcocks,
Animal Collective,
Silicon Teens,
Sonic Youth,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Arthur Verocai,
Stiv Bators,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Mummies,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Velvet Underground,
Fela Kuti,
The Wake,
The Stooges,
Sister Nancy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Severed Heads,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Procol Harum,
One Last Wish,
Pulsallama,
The Litter,
Japan,
The Divine Comedy,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.