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 Iran and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 spring reverb 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
The Grass Roots,
R.M.O.,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lou Reed,
Reuben Wilson,
Oblivians,
Ken Boothe,
Talk Talk,
Hashim,
The Knickerbockers,
John Cale,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Roger Hodgson,
Kevin Saunderson,
Desert Stars,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Gun Club,
Skarface,
James White and The Blacks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ultra Naté,
L. Decosne,
Scion,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
John Coltrane,
The Human League,
The Alarm Clocks,
Derrick Morgan,
Gregory Isaacs,
Crooked Eye,
Half Japanese,
Stereo Dub,
Ossler,
China Crisis,
Slave,
Wasted Youth,
Bobby Byrd,
Scientists,
Swans,
X-101,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Harry Pussy,
The Gap Band,
Nirvana,
Ornette Coleman,
10cc,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Minutemen,
Jawbox,
Sound Behaviour,
Jacques Brel,
Public Enemy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kenny Larkin,
Metal Thangz,
Kool Moe Dee,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five.
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.