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 Mauritius and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 clarinet 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 Buckinghams to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Scratch Acid,
Television Personalities,
Black Pus,
Eden Ahbez,
Nils Olav,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ice-T,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Letta Mbulu,
Public Enemy,
Black Sheep,
Al Stewart,
Kas Product,
DJ Style,
T.S.O.L.,
Amon Düül II,
Freddie Wadling,
The Five Americans,
The Mummies,
Patti Smith,
Wings,
Jacques Brel,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Anthony Braxton,
Rapeman,
Funkadelic,
Urselle,
Bob Dylan,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rotary Connection,
10cc,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cecil Taylor,
Ten City,
the Slits,
F. McDonald,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Hashim,
Sarah Menescal,
The Techniques,
The Standells,
Tubeway Army,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Saints,
Ohio Players,
Terry Callier,
Kaleidoscope,
Mary Jane Girls,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bauhaus,
Kerrie Biddell,
Dorothy Ashby,
Icehouse,
Angry Samoans,
Pulsallama,
Absolute Body Control,
Stiv Bators,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Funky Four + One,
Warren Ellis,
Joe Smooth,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity.
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.