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 Azerbaijan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Echospace 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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Harpers Bizarre tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sixth Finger 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Curtis Mayfield,
Funky Four + One,
Public Enemy,
Rites of Spring,
Outsiders,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Echospace,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ornette Coleman,
Agent Orange,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Davy DMX,
Ice-T,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
These Immortal Souls,
Grandmaster Flash,
Grey Daturas,
Au Pairs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Crispian St. Peters,
Joyce Sims,
The Standells,
Spoonie Gee,
Eddi Front,
The Sonics,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Kinks,
Ultravox,
Infiniti,
EPMD,
James White and The Blacks,
Y Pants,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mars,
The Happenings,
The Index,
Black Sheep,
Wings,
Pylon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Main Source,
Gang Starr,
Vladislav Delay,
The Blues Magoos,
Rotary Connection,
PIL,
Robert Görl,
Erykah Badu,
CMW,
The Knickerbockers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Joensuu 1685,
Fat Boys,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Victims,
Skarface,
Banda Bassotti,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Birthday Party,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.