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 Taiwan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Monks to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sarah Menescal,
U.S. Maple,
Joe Finger,
Lungfish,
the Normal,
Black Sheep,
Althea and Donna,
kango's stein massive,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Shuggie Otis,
Hashim,
MC5,
Spandau Ballet,
Faraquet,
Cecil Taylor,
Jeff Lynne,
Pantaleimon,
Joyce Sims,
The Gladiators,
Procol Harum,
Aaron Thompson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Agent Orange,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Busters,
D'Angelo,
T.S.O.L.,
Lucky Dragons,
Boredoms,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ultravox,
Albert Ayler,
Q65,
The Dead C,
Patti Smith,
The Moody Blues,
Whodini,
Nils Olav,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Fort Wilson Riot,
KRS-One,
The Flesh Eaters,
James White and The Blacks,
Eden Ahbez,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Oneida,
Neil Young,
Fad Gadget,
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Human League,
The Martian,
The Shadows of Knight,
Smog,
John Coltrane,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nirvana,
Country Teasers,
The Wake,
Alton Ellis,
Cluster,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.