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 Botswana and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Paris.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Erykah Badu to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Livin' Joy,
Mo-Dettes,
The Leaves,
Supertramp,
Lyres,
Negative Approach,
Pere Ubu,
The Martian,
The Music Machine,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Blues Magoos,
Derrick Morgan,
Suicide,
Nas,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sexual Harrassment,
Wings,
Dave Gahan,
Porter Ricks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The United States of America,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Can,
Barry Ungar,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ornette Coleman,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tom Boy,
Ultravox,
Don Cherry,
LL Cool J,
The Searchers,
The Techniques,
X-Ray Spex,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Popol Vuh,
Los Fastidios,
Anthony Braxton,
Boz Scaggs,
John Holt,
Schoolly D,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ronnie Foster,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Fire Engines,
X-101,
Peter & Gordon,
John Coltrane,
Eli Mardock,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Zapp,
Jacques Brel,
Harpers Bizarre,
Parry Music,
Amon Düül II,
Accadde A,
Minor Threat,
Lindisfarne,
Warsaw,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.