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 Brazil 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Houston.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the rap 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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Magma,
Gang Gang Dance,
U.S. Maple,
Chris Corsano,
Mars,
The Buckinghams,
Archie Shepp,
Aaron Thompson,
EPMD,
Rites of Spring,
Angry Samoans,
Thompson Twins,
Jawbox,
The Fugs,
a-ha,
The Knickerbockers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Organ,
Lindisfarne,
Dawn Penn,
Babytalk,
Cal Tjader,
Lightning Bolt,
Oneida,
Marc Almond,
Tubeway Army,
Yusef Lateef,
The Skatalites,
Lebanon Hanover,
Derrick May,
Unrelated Segments,
Crime,
Lakeside,
Gang of Four,
Boogie Down Productions,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Hot Snakes,
Sixth Finger,
Y Pants,
Swell Maps,
Alison Limerick,
Minnie Riperton,
Maurizio,
Letta Mbulu,
Jeff Lynne,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Liliput,
The Slackers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Khruangbin,
The Electric Prunes,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rekid,
The Human League,
The Zeros,
Au Pairs,
Skriet,
Soul II Soul,
Black Moon,
Quantec,
The Monks,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.