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 Guatemala and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the grunge 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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Bobby Sherman,
The Real Kids,
Young Marble Giants,
Andrew Hill,
Gabor Szabo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eurythmics,
Urselle,
The Walker Brothers,
Sister Nancy,
Can,
Jimmy McGriff,
Hoover,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Vogues,
Marmalade,
Swell Maps,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sugar Minott,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bobby Womack,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Music Machine,
Hashim,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Birthday Party,
The Toasters,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lower 48,
Sonic Youth,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Modern Lovers,
Stiv Bators,
John Coltrane,
U.S. Maple,
Mission of Burma,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Boz Scaggs,
The Evens,
The Kinks,
Mo-Dettes,
Organ,
Electric Prunes,
Neu!,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Black Flag,
Roy Ayers,
Albert Ayler,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Cramps,
Heaven 17,
Bluetip,
New Age Steppers,
Oneida,
T. Rex,
Icehouse,
Rakim,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Delta 5,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.