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 Djibouti and from Tehran.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Pylon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
X-102,
Pylon,
Ornette Coleman,
Tomorrow,
Godley & Creme,
Brick,
Subhumans,
The Durutti Column,
Y Pants,
Adolescents,
Sex Pistols,
Zero Boys,
Tropical Tobacco,
Banda Bassotti,
Lucky Dragons,
The Moody Blues,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sam Rivers,
Porter Ricks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Faraquet,
Monolake,
The Blues Magoos,
Lou Christie,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Babytalk,
Todd Terry,
A Certain Ratio,
Lungfish,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Michelle Simonal,
Electric Prunes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Funky Four + One,
This Heat,
the Association,
E-Dancer,
Duran Duran,
Pere Ubu,
The Blackbyrds,
Suicide,
Chrome,
Black Bananas,
Don Cherry,
Magma,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lalo Schifrin,
Slave,
Joey Negro,
Hot Snakes,
Bush Tetras,
Bobby Byrd,
The Smoke,
Kas Product,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Yellowson,
Model 500,
Freddie Wadling,
Rufus Thomas,
The Detroit Cobras,
Basic Channel,
New York Dolls,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.