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 Mali and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 spring reverb 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 The Litter to the dance 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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Glenn Branca,
Jimmy McGriff,
Albert Ayler,
X-Ray Spex,
Groovy Waters,
Fad Gadget,
Laurel Aitken,
Pole,
Kool Moe Dee,
Derrick Morgan,
Don Cherry,
Country Teasers,
Pylon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Terry Callier,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kenny Larkin,
The Techniques,
Circle Jerks,
Flash Fearless,
Easy Going,
X-101,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Deakin,
Make Up,
June Days,
John Cale,
New Age Steppers,
The Star Department,
Janne Schatter,
Intrusion,
Porter Ricks,
Niagra,
Chrome,
The Doobie Brothers,
David Bowie,
Half Japanese,
Sixth Finger,
This Heat,
Drexciya,
Motorama,
Franke,
K-Klass,
John Coltrane,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Nation of Ulysses,
X-102,
Severed Heads,
The Divine Comedy,
Matthew Halsall,
Marine Girls,
Ten City,
Ornette Coleman,
Slave,
The Gladiators,
the Fania All-Stars,
Heaven 17,
Tomorrow,
The Five Americans,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.