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 Philippines and from Bologna.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Columbus.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Robert Hood to the disco 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Mission of Burma,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Crooked Eye,
Alton Ellis,
Intrusion,
Agent Orange,
Parry Music,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Harry Pussy,
Kaleidoscope,
Lightning Bolt,
Eve St. Jones,
Anakelly,
Sight & Sound,
The Slackers,
Magma,
New Age Steppers,
10cc,
Kerri Chandler,
Arcadia,
Franke,
Max Romeo,
Skarface,
Terry Callier,
Monolake,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Peter and Kerry,
Mars,
U.S. Maple,
John Holt,
Saccharine Trust,
Blossom Toes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nas,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Minny Pops,
Zapp,
Japan,
Susan Cadogan,
Minnie Riperton,
Kurtis Blow,
Kenny Larkin,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Isaac Hayes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Donny Hathaway,
Cluster,
Jimmy McGriff,
Guru Guru,
Eli Mardock,
Cal Tjader,
the Soft Cell,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Q65,
The Music Machine,
Nick Fraelich,
Iggy Pop,
Deepchord,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.