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 Mongolia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yaz 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?
Traffic Nightmare,
The Real Kids,
Robert Hood,
Aaron Thompson,
Visage,
The Black Dice,
The Motions,
Icehouse,
Soft Machine,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bob Dylan,
Maleditus Sound,
the Fania All-Stars,
F. McDonald,
Piero Umiliani,
The Doors,
Monks,
K-Klass,
Suburban Knight,
Mark Hollis,
Livin' Joy,
Sällskapet,
Make Up,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Wire,
Freddie Wadling,
Warsaw,
Magazine,
The Five Americans,
Tears for Fears,
Henry Cow,
The Smiths,
Spandau Ballet,
Iggy Pop,
Minnie Riperton,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Music Machine,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Judy Mowatt,
The Skatalites,
Idris Muhammad,
The Raincoats,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Brothers Johnson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
David Axelrod,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Leonard Cohen,
Charles Mingus,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Supertramp,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Shadows of Knight,
Andrew Hill,
Anthony Braxton,
June of 44,
Donald Byrd,
Moss Icon,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Al Stewart,
Technova,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.