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 Djibouti and from Woodstock.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Cecil Taylor to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All UT tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Wolf Eyes,
Dave Gahan,
Symarip,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Intrusion,
Bobby Womack,
Gang of Four,
Soulsonic Force,
James White and The Blacks,
Babytalk,
Arab on Radar,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Young Marble Giants,
The Cowsills,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rufus Thomas,
Sex Pistols,
Robert Wyatt,
Goldenarms,
The Kinks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The United States of America,
Grey Daturas,
The Gories,
Bill Wells,
Danielle Patucci,
Eric Dolphy,
Bill Near,
Crash Course in Science,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Stooges,
New Age Steppers,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Fire Engines,
Hasil Adkins,
Jeff Lynne,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ponytail,
Ultravox,
The Blackbyrds,
Brand Nubian,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
One Last Wish,
Barbara Tucker,
DJ Style,
X-Ray Spex,
Porter Ricks,
Pole,
Kurtis Blow,
Davy DMX,
B.T. Express,
JFA,
Gichy Dan,
Amazonics,
The Pop Group,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.