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 Russia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Graham Central Station to the jazz 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Duran Duran,
The Move,
Robert Görl,
Porter Ricks,
T.S.O.L.,
Sex Pistols,
These Immortal Souls,
Pylon,
Brothers Johnson,
The Fall,
Gang Gang Dance,
Severed Heads,
Rod Modell,
Agent Orange,
Alphaville,
Marmalade,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Patti Smith,
KRS-One,
Jeru the Damaja,
Glambeats Corp.,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Scion,
Wasted Youth,
Sixth Finger,
Drive Like Jehu,
Tommy Roe,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Soul II Soul,
Carl Craig,
Hasil Adkins,
the Bar-Kays,
The Tremeloes,
Joy Division,
John Cale,
Bobby Sherman,
One Last Wish,
Lalo Schifrin,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Grass Roots,
FM Einheit,
The Happenings,
Black Moon,
Boz Scaggs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Michelle Simonal,
The Fuzztones,
Rites of Spring,
H. Thieme,
Boredoms,
Tomorrow,
Animal Collective,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ultra Naté,
The Young Rascals,
JFA,
Camberwell Now,
Maurizio,
Loose Ends,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.