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 Vanuatu and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the rock 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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Sun Ra,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Suburban Knight,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Scion,
Eurythmics,
Accadde A,
The Real Kids,
The Leaves,
Cheater Slicks,
The Names,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Soft Cell,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Albert Ayler,
Cybotron,
Easy Going,
The Standells,
In Retrospect,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Shuggie Otis,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Todd Terry,
Lyres,
Charles Mingus,
Heaven 17,
Alison Limerick,
Sun City Girls,
The Moody Blues,
Deepchord,
Danielle Patucci,
The Sonics,
Pet Shop Boys,
Drexciya,
Absolute Body Control,
Sonny Sharrock,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Urselle,
The Smiths,
Stockholm Monsters,
Radio Birdman,
Black Moon,
Deadbeat,
Eden Ahbez,
Joe Finger,
James White and The Blacks,
Gong,
Vainqueur,
Joensuu 1685,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Gories,
The Neon Judgement,
Amon Düül,
Eric Dolphy,
John Coltrane,
Jesper Dahlback,
B.T. Express,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Delta 5,
the Germs,
The Slackers,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.