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 New Zealand and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Rufus Thomas,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gerry Rafferty,
Soft Cell,
Symarip,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bobby Byrd,
Slick Rick,
Severed Heads,
The Residents,
the Association,
Bizarre Inc.,
Theoretical Girls,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
MC5,
KRS-One,
MDC,
Kurtis Blow,
Alton Ellis,
Circle Jerks,
Minny Pops,
Matthew Halsall,
The Tremeloes,
Freddie Wadling,
Black Moon,
Althea and Donna,
Cymande,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Black Dice,
Josef K,
Darondo,
Heaven 17,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Neon Judgement,
Inner City,
Little Man,
Duran Duran,
the Swans,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Unwound,
Jimmy McGriff,
Newcleus,
The Evens,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Radiohead,
D'Angelo,
Ken Boothe,
Panda Bear,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Steve Hackett,
Ituana,
Andrew Hill,
Swans,
Eric Copeland,
The Cure,
David Axelrod,
Cal Tjader,
Saccharine Trust,
Rites of Spring,
Fugazi,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound.
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.