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 Burkina and from New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 rhodes 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 T.S.O.L. to the crunk 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 The Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Chris Corsano,
The Gun Club,
The Slackers,
The Tremeloes,
48th St. Collective,
Mark Hollis,
Rites of Spring,
Bobby Womack,
Eric Copeland,
Steve Hackett,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Suicide,
The Zeros,
Cluster,
the Bar-Kays,
The Beau Brummels,
Mandrill,
Roxette,
Excepter,
Aloha Tigers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tres Demented,
Niagra,
the Human League,
Trumans Water,
Ice-T,
Talk Talk,
Delta 5,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Radio Birdman,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Smoke,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
X-102,
Isaac Hayes,
Charles Mingus,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sun City Girls,
Tomorrow,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Gories,
Motorama,
The Selecter,
Section 25,
Wire,
Bobby Byrd,
Danielle Patucci,
B.T. Express,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Fortunes,
The Techniques,
Zero Boys,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bob Dylan,
The Busters,
Albert Ayler,
Scion,
Dawn Penn,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.