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 Cuba and from Jakarta.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the crunk 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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Donny Hathaway,
The Mojo Men,
The Mummies,
Tubeway Army,
Bobby Byrd,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
H. Thieme,
New York Dolls,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scrapy,
Crooked Eye,
Aural Exciters,
Easy Going,
Arthur Verocai,
Steve Hackett,
Morten Harket,
The Seeds,
Radiohead,
Eric B and Rakim,
Organ,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Thee Headcoats,
The Golliwogs,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Monolake,
Au Pairs,
New Order,
Josef K,
Pantytec,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Blues Magoos,
Silicon Teens,
The Red Krayola,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Section 25,
Gang of Four,
Marvin Gaye,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Black Dice,
Tears for Fears,
Smog,
The Residents,
Bauhaus,
Rekid,
Amon Düül II,
The Gap Band,
The Slits,
Cal Tjader,
Lower 48,
Scratch Acid,
Qualms,
10cc,
Skaos,
Robert Görl,
kango's stein massive,
X-102,
The United States of America,
The Moleskins,
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers.
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.