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 East Timor 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 mellotron 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 Sam Rivers to the funk 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 Au Pairs. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Pylon,
Moss Icon,
The Selecter,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Pagans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Harmonia,
Marmalade,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Average White Band,
Motorama,
Sister Nancy,
Drexciya,
A Certain Ratio,
Bobby Womack,
Skarface,
Minor Threat,
The Fuzztones,
Pussy Galore,
Smog,
Sight & Sound,
The Fire Engines,
Alison Limerick,
Stetsasonic,
Janne Schatter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nick Fraelich,
Barbara Tucker,
Tubeway Army,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Hashim,
Tomorrow,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Avey Tare,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bronski Beat,
Lyres,
Supertramp,
David Axelrod,
Eric Copeland,
KRS-One,
Kaleidoscope,
Whodini,
Cecil Taylor,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Agent Orange,
Blake Baxter,
Amon Düül,
Mars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jesper Dahlback,
Archie Shepp,
Jimmy McGriff,
DNA,
Anakelly,
Scientists,
Accadde A,
Eric Dolphy,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.