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 Paraguay and from Portland.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ituana to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Todd Terry,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Chris Corsano,
Severed Heads,
Ultra Naté,
John Cale,
Lindisfarne,
Con Funk Shun,
The Zeros,
Roxette,
The Neon Judgement,
Bad Manners,
Matthew Bourne,
JFA,
Tim Buckley,
The Fire Engines,
Moebius,
Peter & Gordon,
Newcleus,
Tomorrow,
Pierre Henry,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Anakelly,
Metal Thangz,
Cecil Taylor,
Scratch Acid,
Alice Coltrane,
The Move,
Radiohead,
Moby Grape,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lou Christie,
Tom Boy,
Letta Mbulu,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Gories,
E-Dancer,
the Swans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jacques Brel,
The Misunderstood,
KRS-One,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Black Flag,
DJ Style,
Nils Olav,
Rosa Yemen,
Cal Tjader,
Pulsallama,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Sonics,
Yaz,
Country Teasers,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.