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 Sierra Leone and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 John Coltrane to the rap 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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone 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?
Charles Mingus,
David McCallum,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Yellowson,
The Pop Group,
Saccharine Trust,
Grey Daturas,
Lower 48,
The Young Rascals,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bush Tetras,
Parry Music,
Eve St. Jones,
Nation of Ulysses,
Boogie Down Productions,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Al Stewart,
The Slackers,
Prince Buster,
R.M.O.,
Audionom,
Chrome,
Bluetip,
Idris Muhammad,
Can,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Thompson Twins,
Freddie Wadling,
Kerri Chandler,
The Leaves,
Fugazi,
Ohio Players,
Banda Bassotti,
Massinfluence,
Groovy Waters,
48th St. Collective,
Boz Scaggs,
Easy Going,
Silicon Teens,
Derrick May,
U.S. Maple,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Todd Rundgren,
Warsaw,
Crash Course in Science,
AZ,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Tres Demented,
Sandy B,
Anthony Braxton,
David Bowie,
In Retrospect,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mission of Burma,
The Blues Magoos,
Man Parrish,
The Angels of Light,
Joey Negro,
The Durutti Column,
The Offenders,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.