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 Denmark and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the disco 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 Kas Product. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
Judy Mowatt,
Janne Schatter,
Flipper,
Laurel Aitken,
Kerri Chandler,
Slick Rick,
Funky Four + One,
June of 44,
The Fugs,
Matthew Halsall,
The Busters,
Procol Harum,
The Tremeloes,
The Move,
Roxy Music,
Stiv Bators,
Agent Orange,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Dorothy Ashby,
Motorama,
Hot Snakes,
Harmonia,
Tubeway Army,
Mandrill,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gang Gang Dance,
Quadrant,
Terrestrial Tones,
Big Daddy Kane,
Soft Machine,
The Real Kids,
The Mummies,
Angry Samoans,
Peter & Gordon,
Gerry Rafferty,
Matthew Bourne,
The Slackers,
Scratch Acid,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gong,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Suicide,
The Monks,
Deakin,
Section 25,
Altered Images,
Sonny Sharrock,
These Immortal Souls,
Soft Cell,
Joyce Sims,
JFA,
Groovy Waters,
Darondo,
The Standells,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mantronix,
Boogie Down Productions,
Neil Young,
The Count Five,
Pharoah Sanders,
Shuggie Otis,
Lebanon Hanover,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.