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 South Africa and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 David Bowie 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 Eric Dolphy to the punk 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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mars,
The Martian,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Vogues,
Porter Ricks,
B.T. Express,
Sugar Minott,
Eric B and Rakim,
Depeche Mode,
Colin Newman,
Subhumans,
Ohio Players,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fugazi,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nas,
Harpers Bizarre,
Spandau Ballet,
Half Japanese,
Niagra,
Ultra Naté,
Jacob Miller,
The United States of America,
The Move,
Boz Scaggs,
Ten City,
Arcadia,
The Cramps,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Robert Görl,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Peter & Gordon,
Sonny Sharrock,
Basic Channel,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mission of Burma,
Robert Hood,
Das Ding,
Schoolly D,
Wasted Youth,
Liliput,
Bauhaus,
The Smoke,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Erykah Badu,
Reuben Wilson,
Quantec,
L. Decosne,
Suburban Knight,
Average White Band,
Babytalk,
Flash Fearless,
Public Image Ltd.,
Rosa Yemen,
Amon Düül,
Television Personalities,
The Cure,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Guru Guru,
cv313,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John 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.