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 Gambia and from Accra.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Average White Band to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sam Rivers,
The Motions,
Frankie Knuckles,
Hoover,
Unwound,
Heaven 17,
Thee Headcoats,
Trumans Water,
L. Decosne,
Lyres,
Absolute Body Control,
Skaos,
Mantronix,
Blossom Toes,
John Foxx,
Isaac Hayes,
Bill Near,
H. Thieme,
The Divine Comedy,
Liliput,
Nas,
EPMD,
The Gap Band,
Yellowson,
Gabor Szabo,
T. Rex,
The Blackbyrds,
Al Stewart,
Metal Thangz,
Jimmy McGriff,
Amon Düül,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nils Olav,
The Cure,
Sonic Youth,
Brand Nubian,
the Bar-Kays,
Duran Duran,
Brothers Johnson,
Groovy Waters,
Erasure,
Flash Fearless,
Slick Rick,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nirvana,
Scientists,
The Gun Club,
Grey Daturas,
Lakeside,
Sight & Sound,
Roxy Music,
Lalo Schifrin,
Magazine,
Lungfish,
Fugazi,
The Index,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.