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 Mexico and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the disco 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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Clear Light,
The American Breed,
Anakelly,
the Fania All-Stars,
Tubeway Army,
Eden Ahbez,
The Motions,
The Beau Brummels,
Scan 7,
Gong,
Cymande,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Gun Club,
Steve Hackett,
Lindisfarne,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Letta Mbulu,
Soft Machine,
Black Flag,
Inner City,
Radiopuhelimet,
Blancmange,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cheater Slicks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nico,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Carl Craig,
Albert Ayler,
The Busters,
Jacques Brel,
L. Decosne,
Dark Day,
B.T. Express,
Ten City,
K-Klass,
Minnie Riperton,
Wally Richardson,
La Düsseldorf,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Tim Buckley,
Eric B and Rakim,
Monks,
Desert Stars,
Lungfish,
The Slits,
Yellowson,
The Cramps,
Model 500,
The Standells,
Arthur Verocai,
The Grass Roots,
Rufus Thomas,
Don Cherry,
Buzzcocks,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.