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 Turkey and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 808 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 Bootsy Collins to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Essential Logic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Monks,
Television Personalities,
Mad Mike,
Dawn Penn,
The Tremeloes,
Bobby Womack,
Brand Nubian,
Funkadelic,
Heaven 17,
Subhumans,
Bill Wells,
Howard Jones,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Stooges,
Faraquet,
The Slackers,
Pantytec,
Curtis Mayfield,
Cameo,
Anthony Braxton,
Arthur Verocai,
the Swans,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Divine Comedy,
Clear Light,
Neu!,
Tomorrow,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mr. Review,
Angry Samoans,
Crispy Ambulance,
Crash Course in Science,
Blake Baxter,
Pussy Galore,
Talk Talk,
Minutemen,
Lucky Dragons,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
ABBA,
Public Enemy,
The Dead C,
Metal Thangz,
Aloha Tigers,
Ten City,
Siglo XX,
Kenny Larkin,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
China Crisis,
Urselle,
Skarface,
Jawbox,
Swans,
Sällskapet,
Popol Vuh,
The New Christs,
Blossom Toes,
Electric Prunes,
Television,
The Associates,
Crooked Eye,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.