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 St Lucia and from Mumbai.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Flash Fearless to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Harmonia. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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 Searchers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Wolf Eyes,
Rapeman,
Ronan,
Dark Day,
La Düsseldorf,
Bob Dylan,
The Modern Lovers,
Faust,
Sex Pistols,
Howard Jones,
Sandy B,
Camberwell Now,
Sällskapet,
Circle Jerks,
Warsaw,
Ultimate Spinach,
the Normal,
Boredoms,
Banda Bassotti,
Dual Sessions,
Aloha Tigers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Supertramp,
Tears for Fears,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Quando Quango,
Oblivians,
Lungfish,
Second Layer,
Junior Murvin,
Blake Baxter,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jacques Brel,
Rhythm & Sound,
L. Decosne,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Terrestrial Tones,
Don Cherry,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Beau Brummels,
Joe Finger,
The Shadows of Knight,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pantaleimon,
Duran Duran,
Little Man,
Gang of Four,
Lebanon Hanover,
Interpol,
Michelle Simonal,
The Smoke,
Bobby Sherman,
Shoche,
The Saints,
Pylon,
Rakim,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bluetip,
Q65,
Lalann,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.