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 China and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 arpeggiator 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 Brothers Johnson to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Easy Going record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jandek,
The J.B.'s,
Black Bananas,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Babytalk,
Rufus Thomas,
Mandrill,
Heaven 17,
Scion,
June Days,
Bang On A Can,
The American Breed,
The Black Dice,
Bobby Sherman,
John Coltrane,
Das Ding,
the Soft Cell,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Germs,
Amazonics,
The Sonics,
Junior Murvin,
Susan Cadogan,
The Raincoats,
Quantec,
Parry Music,
Isaac Hayes,
Hasil Adkins,
Kerrie Biddell,
Scrapy,
Leonard Cohen,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Alison Limerick,
The Smoke,
KRS-One,
Tom Boy,
Sister Nancy,
Joe Finger,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Gladiators,
Henry Cow,
Tommy Roe,
Pole,
Young Marble Giants,
Harpers Bizarre,
Donald Byrd,
Byron Stingily,
Dorothy Ashby,
Derrick May,
Kayak,
Public Enemy,
ABBA,
Shuggie Otis,
Con Funk Shun,
Nils Olav,
Malaria!,
The Misunderstood,
Roger Hodgson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.