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 Romania and from Seoul.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Supertramp to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily 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?
Con Funk Shun,
Gang of Four,
Shoche,
Ralphi Rosario,
Brass Construction,
Arab on Radar,
Hashim,
Faraquet,
The Cure,
Lyres,
Section 25,
Babytalk,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Detroit Cobras,
Skriet,
John Cale,
A Certain Ratio,
Todd Terry,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
8 Eyed Spy,
Grey Daturas,
Marine Girls,
Soul II Soul,
Minor Threat,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Yaz,
Buzzcocks,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Alarm Clocks,
Magma,
Altered Images,
Angry Samoans,
Organ,
Robert Hood,
Pagans,
The Grass Roots,
Motorama,
The United States of America,
Cecil Taylor,
Slave,
The Moleskins,
Pantaleimon,
Visage,
China Crisis,
Sex Pistols,
Godley & Creme,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Gap Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Soul Sonic Force,
Skarface,
Von Mondo,
Aloha Tigers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
L. Decosne,
Camouflage,
Donald Byrd,
Clear Light,
Eric B and Rakim,
X-Ray Spex,
Mr. Review,
Surgeon,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.