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 Hungary and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Liliput to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Technova,
Sonny Sharrock,
Susan Cadogan,
The New Christs,
The Cure,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bill Near,
Sister Nancy,
Al Stewart,
The Mojo Men,
The Searchers,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Golliwogs,
Masters at Work,
La Düsseldorf,
Essential Logic,
Alton Ellis,
Connie Case,
Stetsasonic,
Sun Ra,
Skaos,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kaleidoscope,
Silicon Teens,
Bang On A Can,
Duran Duran,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sugar Minott,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Donald Byrd,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bauhaus,
Scrapy,
Rufus Thomas,
A Certain Ratio,
Dawn Penn,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bluetip,
The Gun Club,
Leonard Cohen,
The Pop Group,
Bootsy Collins,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ornette Coleman,
Wally Richardson,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pet Shop Boys,
Radiohead,
Tropical Tobacco,
U.S. Maple,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Scientists,
Hashim,
Erasure,
JFA,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Don Cherry,
Smog,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.