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 Malta and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Magma to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Boogie Down Productions,
James White and The Blacks,
Depeche Mode,
Arthur Verocai,
X-Ray Spex,
Surgeon,
Echospace,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jeru the Damaja,
Matthew Bourne,
Mars,
Yaz,
The Five Americans,
Circle Jerks,
The Move,
Au Pairs,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ultimate Spinach,
Masters at Work,
Charles Mingus,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Suicide,
Henry Cow,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sandy B,
Yellowson,
Icehouse,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Zapp,
OOIOO,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ken Boothe,
Talk Talk,
Letta Mbulu,
Vainqueur,
The Victims,
Sun City Girls,
One Last Wish,
The Barracudas,
The J.B.'s,
Unrelated Segments,
B.T. Express,
Delta 5,
Lindisfarne,
Cluster,
Country Teasers,
Essential Logic,
Wolf Eyes,
Patti Smith,
Fear,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Panda Bear,
Soul Sonic Force,
Marine Girls,
Pulsallama,
Pylon,
The Velvet Underground,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.