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 Liberia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Eddi Front to the rock 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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
MDC,
Ultra Naté,
Terry Callier,
The Fugs,
Gregory Isaacs,
Connie Case,
Gil Scott Heron,
Piero Umiliani,
the Germs,
Jimmy McGriff,
Wasted Youth,
Sixth Finger,
Shuggie Otis,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Scott Walker,
Smog,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mandrill,
Radiopuhelimet,
D'Angelo,
Mars,
Anthony Braxton,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bootsy Collins,
The Slits,
Pet Shop Boys,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Bar-Kays,
Lucky Dragons,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Spoonie Gee,
Lightning Bolt,
Minny Pops,
Crispian St. Peters,
Black Sheep,
Albert Ayler,
Yaz,
Gang Starr,
The Tremeloes,
Dual Sessions,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Marmalade,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Vladislav Delay,
MC5,
The Sound,
Minor Threat,
Kayak,
Flash Fearless,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Sonics,
Mark Hollis,
The Durutti Column,
Radio Birdman,
The Zeros,
Bronski Beat,
Harmonia,
Nico,
Subhumans,
Metal Thangz,
Black Pus,
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.