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 Samoa and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Johannesburg.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Kinks to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Terry Callier,
The Last Poets,
Jacob Miller,
Sun Ra,
The United States of America,
T. Rex,
Ornette Coleman,
Gabor Szabo,
Hasil Adkins,
Warsaw,
Donny Hathaway,
Parry Music,
Minutemen,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Loose Ends,
The American Breed,
the Bar-Kays,
Organ,
The Doors,
Pantaleimon,
John Lydon,
Nik Kershaw,
Half Japanese,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Music Machine,
In Retrospect,
Von Mondo,
MC5,
Niagra,
kango's stein massive,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Saints,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Yusef Lateef,
Eden Ahbez,
The Cowsills,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Cramps,
Electric Prunes,
Barrington Levy,
Gang of Four,
Quando Quango,
Fatback Band,
Vladislav Delay,
Johnny Clarke,
Bill Wells,
Jeff Mills,
8 Eyed Spy,
Derrick Morgan,
Aural Exciters,
Deepchord,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Star Department,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Sound,
The Raincoats,
Mars,
Harry Pussy,
The Angels of Light,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.