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 Palau and from Glasgow.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the dance 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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Glenn Branca,
8 Eyed Spy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mark Hollis,
E-Dancer,
The Associates,
Whodini,
Eurythmics,
Roy Ayers,
Dorothy Ashby,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Birthday Party,
Sonny Sharrock,
New Order,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sixth Finger,
The Fall,
Al Stewart,
Ten City,
Maleditus Sound,
Monolake,
The Golliwogs,
Pharoah Sanders,
Crash Course in Science,
Supertramp,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sparks,
Todd Rundgren,
H. Thieme,
Organ,
X-Ray Spex,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sandy B,
the Sonics,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Crime,
Sarah Menescal,
Bad Manners,
The Pretty Things,
Bill Near,
Lucky Dragons,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Hashim,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sugar Minott,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Fortunes,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Saints,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Shadows of Knight,
Althea and Donna,
John Cale,
Sun City Girls,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Accadde A,
Lou Christie,
Drexciya,
London Community Gospel Choir,
James White and The Blacks,
Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection.
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.