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 Papua New Guinea 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 oboe 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 Popol Vuh to the grime 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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Gregory Isaacs,
Letta Mbulu,
Black Sheep,
The Seeds,
Fear,
Arab on Radar,
cv313,
Chris Corsano,
The Martian,
Parry Music,
Marshall Jefferson,
Tears for Fears,
Slave,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Stereo Dub,
Subhumans,
Pet Shop Boys,
Radio Birdman,
The Invisible,
Rotary Connection,
Wings,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Tubeway Army,
Gang Starr,
Pole,
Ossler,
Crispy Ambulance,
Underground Resistance,
Surgeon,
Quantec,
June Days,
Section 25,
Eve St. Jones,
Patti Smith,
Scan 7,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Joe Finger,
Suburban Knight,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wire,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Monochrome Set,
Gong,
Sister Nancy,
Los Fastidios,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Infiniti,
F. McDonald,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Aswad,
The Neon Judgement,
The Fire Engines,
AZ,
The Electric Prunes,
Desert Stars,
Duran Duran,
Liliput,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sonic Youth,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.