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 Italy and from Manila.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Slits to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick Morgan,
Duran Duran,
Gil Scott Heron,
Faraquet,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pere Ubu,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Remains,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sound Behaviour,
K-Klass,
Matthew Halsall,
Cabaret Voltaire,
R.M.O.,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Robert Wyatt,
Index,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Schoolly D,
Nick Fraelich,
Subhumans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
In Retrospect,
Little Man,
The Gun Club,
John Coltrane,
The Red Krayola,
Los Fastidios,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ituana,
New Age Steppers,
Grauzone,
The Skatalites,
Gabor Szabo,
Byron Stingily,
Electric Prunes,
Pylon,
Sixth Finger,
Arab on Radar,
CMW,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Junior Murvin,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Yellowson,
Fatback Band,
MC5,
Model 500,
Robert Görl,
The Walker Brothers,
Marvin Gaye,
Sonny Sharrock,
Arthur Verocai,
Pantaleimon,
Boredoms,
Eric B and Rakim,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kenny Larkin,
Zero Boys,
Eric Copeland,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.