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 Mauritania and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Dave Clark Five to the rap 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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Wire,
Cybotron,
Sarah Menescal,
The Associates,
Al Stewart,
Stockholm Monsters,
World's Most,
Grauzone,
Gabor Szabo,
Davy DMX,
Todd Rundgren,
The Tremeloes,
Tears for Fears,
The Young Rascals,
Cal Tjader,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Flesh Eaters,
Vainqueur,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Fugs,
Sound Behaviour,
The Doobie Brothers,
Infiniti,
The Last Poets,
Mr. Review,
Boredoms,
PIL,
One Last Wish,
The J.B.'s,
Interpol,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Doors,
The Evens,
Organ,
Massinfluence,
Echospace,
Nick Fraelich,
Rod Modell,
Masters at Work,
Animal Collective,
The Smoke,
Babytalk,
Ronnie Foster,
Johnny Clarke,
Pulsallama,
The Sonics,
The Slackers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gang Gang Dance,
June Days,
Ossler,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Minnie Riperton,
Gerry Rafferty,
Duran Duran,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.