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 Sweden and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Robert Palmer 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 Gap Band to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Smog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerri Chandler,
Bush Tetras,
Scion,
Visage,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Drexciya,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Nils Olav,
Sexual Harrassment,
Guru Guru,
Slave,
Don Cherry,
Warren Ellis,
One Last Wish,
B.T. Express,
Henry Cow,
Whodini,
Intrusion,
Flash Fearless,
Joey Negro,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
KRS-One,
DJ Style,
Model 500,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pet Shop Boys,
Deakin,
The Golliwogs,
Fat Boys,
The Searchers,
K-Klass,
Negative Approach,
Ralphi Rosario,
X-102,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Associates,
Minny Pops,
Infiniti,
The Five Americans,
Gang Gang Dance,
Groovy Waters,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
D'Angelo,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Franke,
Ronan,
Swans,
the Soft Cell,
Heaven 17,
John Foxx,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Stetsasonic,
The Walker Brothers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Goldenarms,
DJ Sneak,
June of 44,
Mars,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Amon Düül II,
Lucky Dragons,
T.S.O.L.,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.