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 Nauru and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Don Cherry to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
The Human League,
Neil Young,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eli Mardock,
Bobby Byrd,
Soulsonic Force,
Procol Harum,
Deakin,
Cymande,
X-102,
Mark Hollis,
Chris Corsano,
Althea and Donna,
Marine Girls,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jandek,
The Black Dice,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sarah Menescal,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Leaves,
Pierre Henry,
The Standells,
The American Breed,
Q and Not U,
Roxy Music,
Severed Heads,
The United States of America,
Excepter,
Arthur Verocai,
Oneida,
FM Einheit,
Archie Shepp,
Circle Jerks,
Lungfish,
Monks,
Cameo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ludus,
The Mojo Men,
Bootsy Collins,
Ultravox,
Aaron Thompson,
48th St. Collective,
Gang Starr,
New Age Steppers,
Juan Atkins,
Television,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Model 500,
Byron Stingily,
Sister Nancy,
Brass Construction,
Johnny Osbourne,
Eden Ahbez,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Yellowson,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.