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 Cameroon and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 oboe 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 The Walker Brothers to the funk 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 The Mojo Men. All the underground hits.
All The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
Outsiders,
New Order,
The United States of America,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rufus Thomas,
Marc Almond,
The Slits,
The Blues Magoos,
Japan,
Minnie Riperton,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Interpol,
The Vogues,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Eve St. Jones,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
These Immortal Souls,
Black Pus,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Last Poets,
Rosa Yemen,
Archie Shepp,
Piero Umiliani,
Pere Ubu,
The New Christs,
Joe Finger,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bob Dylan,
Mark Hollis,
Ludus,
Echospace,
Stiv Bators,
PIL,
The Litter,
Traffic Nightmare,
Curtis Mayfield,
Byron Stingily,
Erykah Badu,
Grey Daturas,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rotary Connection,
Schoolly D,
Gong,
Rekid,
The Moody Blues,
Joy Division,
Joyce Sims,
Lee Hazlewood,
Boredoms,
Circle Jerks,
Terry Callier,
Glambeats Corp.,
Erasure,
Delta 5,
The Modern Lovers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.