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 Bahrain and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 arpeggiator 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 Flamin' Groovies to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Joe Finger,
Letta Mbulu,
Chris Corsano,
Oneida,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The American Breed,
The Barracudas,
Bobby Byrd,
Funkadelic,
Bad Manners,
Au Pairs,
The Stooges,
EPMD,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Traffic Nightmare,
Zero Boys,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
World's Most,
The Fugs,
Graham Central Station,
Glenn Branca,
Barrington Levy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Blackbyrds,
Loose Ends,
Black Moon,
Stiv Bators,
Banda Bassotti,
Avey Tare,
Tropical Tobacco,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Amazonics,
Camouflage,
Vainqueur,
The Standells,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pere Ubu,
John Cale,
Marshall Jefferson,
Trumans Water,
Black Bananas,
Swell Maps,
Bill Near,
Scratch Acid,
Babytalk,
James White and The Blacks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Aaron Thompson,
Jesper Dahlback,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Young Marble Giants,
Jeff Lynne,
Altered Images,
James Chance & The Contortions,
John Foxx,
Nick Fraelich,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.