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 Kyrgyzstan and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Max Romeo to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Fat Boys,
The Happenings,
John Coltrane,
The Remains,
Underground Resistance,
The Trojans,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ken Boothe,
Television,
The Monks,
Parry Music,
X-102,
Joy Division,
Young Marble Giants,
John Holt,
Pylon,
The Blackbyrds,
New Age Steppers,
Aural Exciters,
Aloha Tigers,
Zapp,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Fugs,
The Durutti Column,
Pantaleimon,
Second Layer,
MC5,
The Wake,
Faraquet,
UT,
Soft Cell,
F. McDonald,
Dave Gahan,
Man Parrish,
Zero Boys,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Livin' Joy,
The Buckinghams,
Jandek,
Piero Umiliani,
Bob Dylan,
Connie Case,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Monks,
Magazine,
Depeche Mode,
The Shadows of Knight,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tubeway Army,
Accadde A,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sun City Girls,
Gichy Dan,
Schoolly D,
Josef K,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ultra Naté,
Severed Heads,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Tremeloes,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.