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 Iceland and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Archie Shepp to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All Davy DMX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Maleditus Sound,
X-Ray Spex,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lou Christie,
Fugazi,
The Smiths,
This Heat,
Minor Threat,
The Trojans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Germs,
T.S.O.L.,
Todd Terry,
Eve St. Jones,
Cheater Slicks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Suburban Knight,
Toni Rubio,
Neu!,
The Slackers,
Rotary Connection,
Intrusion,
Boredoms,
Arab on Radar,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Joy Division,
Stiv Bators,
Trumans Water,
Agent Orange,
Marmalade,
Spandau Ballet,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
David Bowie,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Franke,
Bootsy Collins,
The Mojo Men,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Tremeloes,
L. Decosne,
The Martian,
The Happenings,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Pop Group,
Ossler,
Black Flag,
Soul Sonic Force,
Reuben Wilson,
Eddi Front,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lightning Bolt,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Schoolly D,
Barbara Tucker,
Fluxion,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Slits,
Juan Atkins,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.