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 Gabon and from Stockholm.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Young Rascals to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Davy DMX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Slits,
Camouflage,
Tubeway Army,
Fatback Band,
Pagans,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Easy Going,
Technova,
Fad Gadget,
The Move,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Moody Blues,
Model 500,
Prince Buster,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Visage,
Faraquet,
Rakim,
Ten City,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rufus Thomas,
Bobby Byrd,
Motorama,
Saccharine Trust,
Joe Smooth,
Carl Craig,
Charles Mingus,
AZ,
The Detroit Cobras,
John Lydon,
Dual Sessions,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Tres Demented,
Mark Hollis,
Swans,
Lungfish,
The Grass Roots,
The Saints,
Roxette,
E-Dancer,
The Happenings,
Wasted Youth,
Radio Birdman,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Young Marble Giants,
Gichy Dan,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Lalann,
Essential Logic,
Danielle Patucci,
Jeff Lynne,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Los Fastidios,
Stetsasonic,
Whodini,
Symarip,
Jacob Miller,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.