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 South Africa and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 chamberlin 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 Pere Ubu to the crunk 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 The Remains. All the underground hits.
All Gregory Isaacs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
The Music Machine,
Chris Corsano,
Ituana,
Gang of Four,
Easy Going,
New Age Steppers,
Aswad,
The Sonics,
Crash Course in Science,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rapeman,
OOIOO,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Normal,
Jeff Mills,
Technova,
Cluster,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Fuzztones,
Nik Kershaw,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pierre Henry,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Robert Hood,
The Knickerbockers,
Warren Ellis,
Isaac Hayes,
Morten Harket,
The Gap Band,
Yazoo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Blancmange,
James White and The Blacks,
Zapp,
Roxette,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Saccharine Trust,
Anakelly,
MC5,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tom Boy,
June of 44,
Severed Heads,
The Slits,
Eurythmics,
David Axelrod,
Juan Atkins,
Sun City Girls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lungfish,
Derrick May,
Freddie Wadling,
Bob Dylan,
Ultimate Spinach,
Thee Headcoats,
KRS-One,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.