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 Uganda and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Hong Kong.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Black Pus to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ituana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
The Seeds,
Tomorrow,
The Slackers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
F. McDonald,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Television,
Pharoah Sanders,
Symarip,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sound Behaviour,
X-101,
David Axelrod,
Flipper,
The Dead C,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Slave,
Technova,
Darondo,
Von Mondo,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fluxion,
The Leaves,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Birthday Party,
Lucky Dragons,
Freddie Wadling,
Sam Rivers,
The Star Department,
Porter Ricks,
Gang Starr,
Tommy Roe,
Sonny Sharrock,
Brick,
Lyres,
Sister Nancy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Peter & Gordon,
Silicon Teens,
Y Pants,
Rekid,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sällskapet,
Mad Mike,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Black Bananas,
Groovy Waters,
Maleditus Sound,
Donald Byrd,
Deadbeat,
Siglo XX,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Severed Heads,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Angry Samoans,
Alice Coltrane,
The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites.
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.