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 Papua New Guinea and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 rhodes 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 Steve Hackett to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
Monks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Fortunes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Peter and Kerry,
The Slits,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
This Heat,
Sun Ra,
Erykah Badu,
Dual Sessions,
Archie Shepp,
Bobby Byrd,
Visage,
Yazoo,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mantronix,
Fear,
Steve Hackett,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Cure,
The Shadows of Knight,
Alton Ellis,
Flamin' Groovies,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Happenings,
Newcleus,
Index,
X-102,
The Count Five,
Aloha Tigers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Moody Blues,
The Evens,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Grandmaster Flash,
Joyce Sims,
Scott Walker,
Iggy Pop,
Robert Wyatt,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Q and Not U,
Smog,
Echospace,
Roxette,
Trumans Water,
Black Bananas,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
New Age Steppers,
the Human League,
Hasil Adkins,
Bronski Beat,
JFA,
Al Stewart,
Yellowson,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.