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 Iran and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 oboe 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 Bootsy Collins to the jazz 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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Fatback Band,
Joey Negro,
Organ,
La Düsseldorf,
Silicon Teens,
Gastr Del Sol,
Yellowson,
Terry Callier,
Scientists,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jawbox,
The Slits,
Drexciya,
Johnny Clarke,
Little Man,
Ultra Naté,
Schoolly D,
Shuggie Otis,
Flamin' Groovies,
Alton Ellis,
Roger Hodgson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Neu!,
The Gun Club,
Nas,
The Real Kids,
The Busters,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jerry's Kids,
The United States of America,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The American Breed,
Man Eating Sloth,
Index,
Unrelated Segments,
Eli Mardock,
Don Cherry,
Neil Young,
Eric Dolphy,
The Trojans,
The Saints,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Von Mondo,
the Slits,
Agent Orange,
Bobby Sherman,
Cluster,
The Mojo Men,
The Star Department,
Massinfluence,
John Lydon,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sam Rivers,
Al Stewart,
Skarface,
Moby Grape,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.