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 Paris.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 synthesizer 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 Todd Rundgren to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Ituana,
Cymande,
The Human League,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
KRS-One,
Sister Nancy,
The Doors,
The Residents,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sun Ra,
John Lydon,
Qualms,
Pulsallama,
Y Pants,
Soft Machine,
The Martian,
a-ha,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Chris Corsano,
Peter and Kerry,
Technova,
X-101,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scratch Acid,
Amon Düül II,
Graham Central Station,
Lower 48,
Drexciya,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Suicide,
Crooked Eye,
Icehouse,
Crispy Ambulance,
Crash Course in Science,
Junior Murvin,
Brand Nubian,
The Velvet Underground,
Erasure,
The Buckinghams,
Talk Talk,
Man Eating Sloth,
Interpol,
Funkadelic,
Inner City,
The Last Poets,
the Sonics,
Black Flag,
The Doobie Brothers,
Skarface,
Mandrill,
Lyres,
Drive Like Jehu,
Warsaw,
Livin' Joy,
8 Eyed Spy,
Desert Stars,
Alton Ellis,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.