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 Azerbaijan and from Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 Wolf Eyes to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
Underground Resistance,
Yusef Lateef,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Hashim,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Electric Prunes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Shadows of Knight,
Alice Coltrane,
Fugazi,
MC5,
Bang On A Can,
The American Breed,
Radio Birdman,
The Sound,
Masters at Work,
Banda Bassotti,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Grass Roots,
R.M.O.,
Arab on Radar,
UT,
Black Pus,
Nirvana,
F. McDonald,
PIL,
Jeru the Damaja,
It's A Beautiful Day,
This Heat,
Joey Negro,
The Trojans,
Alton Ellis,
Jacob Miller,
The Mummies,
Arthur Verocai,
Gregory Isaacs,
Connie Case,
Matthew Bourne,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Motions,
June of 44,
The Buckinghams,
H. Thieme,
The Monks,
June Days,
Essential Logic,
Robert Görl,
Angry Samoans,
Qualms,
Lyres,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Marcia Griffiths,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.