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 Kiribati and from Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gerry Rafferty to the crunk 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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lucky Dragons,
Japan,
Marine Girls,
Franke,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mars,
The Selecter,
Rapeman,
Glenn Branca,
Essential Logic,
The Remains,
Andrew Hill,
The Music Machine,
Swell Maps,
Thompson Twins,
The Grass Roots,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Magazine,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Throbbing Gristle,
Soft Machine,
The Slits,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sandy B,
Idris Muhammad,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Johnny Osbourne,
James White and The Blacks,
Pere Ubu,
Kevin Saunderson,
cv313,
Underground Resistance,
Leonard Cohen,
Bob Dylan,
Ponytail,
A Certain Ratio,
Tropical Tobacco,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Severed Heads,
The Residents,
Metal Thangz,
Little Man,
Ash Ra Tempel,
John Holt,
Das Ding,
Grey Daturas,
T. Rex,
Gil Scott Heron,
Spoonie Gee,
Ronnie Foster,
The Names,
Peter & Gordon,
Trumans Water,
Big Daddy Kane,
Technova,
Byron Stingily,
Animal Collective,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.