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 Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 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 Eric Copeland to the punk 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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cosmic Jokers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Toasters,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Divine Comedy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Suburban Knight,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
MDC,
E-Dancer,
Audionom,
The Electric Prunes,
Faust,
Rod Modell,
Todd Rundgren,
Danielle Patucci,
UT,
Slick Rick,
Hot Snakes,
Shoche,
Laurel Aitken,
Grauzone,
Das Ding,
The Fugs,
T. Rex,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mandrill,
Eyeless In Gaza,
B.T. Express,
Erasure,
World's Most,
The Dirtbombs,
Quando Quango,
Marshall Jefferson,
Patti Smith,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Black Pus,
Harpers Bizarre,
Subhumans,
These Immortal Souls,
Trumans Water,
New Age Steppers,
Eden Ahbez,
the Association,
Moss Icon,
The Black Dice,
The Gap Band,
Lalann,
Bad Manners,
The American Breed,
Tom Boy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Golliwogs,
Don Cherry,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.