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 Gambia and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a UT record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
Prince Buster,
L. Decosne,
Spandau Ballet,
Basic Channel,
The Young Rascals,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Public Image Ltd.,
Echospace,
X-101,
Stiv Bators,
Shuggie Otis,
Stereo Dub,
the Germs,
Buzzcocks,
Excepter,
The Walker Brothers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Monks,
Morten Harket,
The Golliwogs,
Althea and Donna,
The Real Kids,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Moebius,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marmalade,
Robert Wyatt,
The Electric Prunes,
Funky Four + One,
Big Daddy Kane,
Faraquet,
Fifty Foot Hose,
10cc,
Gong,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Masters at Work,
Stetsasonic,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Easy Going,
Cluster,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Human League,
The Misunderstood,
Arcadia,
The Doors,
Chrome,
Byron Stingily,
Talk Talk,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Junior Murvin,
Nirvana,
Derrick Morgan,
Angry Samoans,
Schoolly D,
The Monochrome Set,
Lindisfarne,
Black Pus,
The Litter,
Ornette Coleman,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
June Days,
Don Cherry,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.