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 Tanzania and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Accra.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Wally Richardson to the rock 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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Franke,
Kenny Larkin,
Bobby Byrd,
The Fugs,
Todd Rundgren,
Johnny Osbourne,
Avey Tare,
Matthew Bourne,
Black Sheep,
Maleditus Sound,
Johnny Clarke,
Bauhaus,
Whodini,
Mission of Burma,
Hot Snakes,
Man Parrish,
Silicon Teens,
Sex Pistols,
Groovy Waters,
Lakeside,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Monochrome Set,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dennis Brown,
The Last Poets,
The Index,
Simply Red,
Vladislav Delay,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Parry Music,
Gang Gang Dance,
Intrusion,
Underground Resistance,
The Mummies,
Harry Pussy,
CMW,
DNA,
Cecil Taylor,
Connie Case,
the Slits,
Pharoah Sanders,
Soulsonic Force,
D'Angelo,
The Vogues,
Pierre Henry,
The Techniques,
The Wake,
R.M.O.,
Alphaville,
Wings,
Curtis Mayfield,
Country Teasers,
Agitation Free,
The Human League,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Icehouse,
Gastr Del Sol,
Deepchord,
Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet.
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.