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 Uganda and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 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 Chris & Cosey to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Sonics,
Excepter,
Flipper,
Metal Thangz,
Roy Ayers,
Gastr Del Sol,
Popol Vuh,
Bill Wells,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Smoke,
the Bar-Kays,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sun City Girls,
Bobby Sherman,
Infiniti,
Swell Maps,
E-Dancer,
Skriet,
Minny Pops,
The Fire Engines,
Adolescents,
Angry Samoans,
Skaos,
Second Layer,
Banda Bassotti,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Music Machine,
Yazoo,
John Foxx,
Radio Birdman,
Main Source,
ABBA,
The Five Americans,
Donny Hathaway,
The New Christs,
D'Angelo,
Dave Gahan,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Beau Brummels,
John Coltrane,
Stereo Dub,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Tears for Fears,
Massinfluence,
Surgeon,
Arcadia,
Bush Tetras,
Derrick May,
the Human League,
Silicon Teens,
Ludus,
Shoche,
Black Sheep,
Los Fastidios,
Blake Baxter,
Pierre Henry,
Charles Mingus,
OOIOO,
Robert Hood,
Cal Tjader,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.