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 Suriname and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Minnie Riperton to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Crooked Eye,
The Gories,
Country Teasers,
Neu!,
The Blues Magoos,
Television,
Main Source,
Steve Hackett,
Scientists,
Chrome,
The Alarm Clocks,
Spoonie Gee,
Underground Resistance,
Jeff Mills,
The United States of America,
Todd Rundgren,
Erykah Badu,
B.T. Express,
the Soft Cell,
The Wake,
Mission of Burma,
Warren Ellis,
Siglo XX,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
U.S. Maple,
The Neon Judgement,
The Flesh Eaters,
Agent Orange,
Nirvana,
Gabor Szabo,
Heaven 17,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sam Rivers,
Bobby Sherman,
Brothers Johnson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Skarface,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Sonics,
The Trojans,
Gil Scott Heron,
Y Pants,
Niagra,
Swans,
Juan Atkins,
Brand Nubian,
Rod Modell,
Eddi Front,
Ralphi Rosario,
Junior Murvin,
Harmonia,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Young Rascals,
Yaz,
Dead Boys,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Human League,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pussy Galore,
ABC,
Rufus Thomas,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.