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 Senegal and from Toronto.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the grunge 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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Japan,
Boz Scaggs,
Oblivians,
The Saints,
Gichy Dan,
Kas Product,
Minor Threat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Desert Stars,
Pere Ubu,
Minnie Riperton,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gang of Four,
Khruangbin,
Stereo Dub,
The Human League,
Todd Rundgren,
The Tremeloes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Gories,
Bizarre Inc.,
Oneida,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Music Machine,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Maurizio,
John Cale,
The Kinks,
Bad Manners,
kango's stein massive,
June of 44,
The Monks,
Johnny Clarke,
Fort Wilson Riot,
EPMD,
Silicon Teens,
Bobby Womack,
Fela Kuti,
The Grass Roots,
Roy Ayers,
Blake Baxter,
Y Pants,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Susan Cadogan,
Section 25,
Terrestrial Tones,
Marvin Gaye,
The Misunderstood,
The Golliwogs,
The Neon Judgement,
Nick Fraelich,
Freddie Wadling,
Frankie Knuckles,
Colin Newman,
Yazoo,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pussy Galore,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.