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 Argentina and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Dead Boys,
Livin' Joy,
Johnny Clarke,
The Move,
Barclay James Harvest,
Hoover,
Glambeats Corp.,
KRS-One,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Dorothy Ashby,
Andrew Hill,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lungfish,
Slave,
Half Japanese,
Kas Product,
The Five Americans,
Absolute Body Control,
Khruangbin,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Essential Logic,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pantytec,
Sparks,
Zapp,
Laurel Aitken,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kevin Saunderson,
Barbara Tucker,
Terry Callier,
Traffic Nightmare,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Colin Newman,
Fela Kuti,
ABC,
Skaos,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Wake,
The Shadows of Knight,
One Last Wish,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lee Hazlewood,
Skarface,
Quando Quango,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Interpol,
The Leaves,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Roxy Music,
The Buckinghams,
Radiohead,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sister Nancy,
Scan 7,
Gang Starr,
Tears for Fears,
Sound Behaviour,
The Seeds,
June Days,
Derrick Morgan,
Delta 5,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.