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 Zimbabwe and from Toronto.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 organ 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 Make Up to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Flipper,
The Fuzztones,
Boz Scaggs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rhythm & Sound,
Alice Coltrane,
Von Mondo,
The Skatalites,
Letta Mbulu,
Sällskapet,
Bluetip,
The American Breed,
Rod Modell,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Golliwogs,
Quantec,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mr. Review,
Lakeside,
The Gap Band,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Thompson Twins,
Kerrie Biddell,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Red Krayola,
Cecil Taylor,
Gabor Szabo,
China Crisis,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Drexciya,
Vainqueur,
Pierre Henry,
Urselle,
Grandmaster Flash,
Scott Walker,
Moby Grape,
The Beau Brummels,
The Cure,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rites of Spring,
Black Sheep,
Barry Ungar,
Nation of Ulysses,
Adolescents,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Angry Samoans,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Desert Stars,
Leonard Cohen,
Can,
Guru Guru,
MC5,
Camouflage,
Technova,
The Divine Comedy,
Grauzone,
Sex Pistols,
Nik Kershaw,
Clear Light,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.