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 Costa Rica and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 Rod Modell to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Colin Newman. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Litter,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sällskapet,
Popol Vuh,
Bizarre Inc.,
Slave,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Human League,
Das Ding,
Roxette,
The Motions,
Marvin Gaye,
Colin Newman,
Whodini,
X-Ray Spex,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tom Boy,
Bang On A Can,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
John Lydon,
Deadbeat,
The Cowsills,
Model 500,
Althea and Donna,
The Names,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eric B and Rakim,
Stiv Bators,
Lungfish,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Thee Headcoats,
Absolute Body Control,
Scan 7,
Mo-Dettes,
Sun Ra,
Can,
Kurtis Blow,
Masters at Work,
Warren Ellis,
Minor Threat,
Scott Walker,
The Beau Brummels,
Rakim,
The Gladiators,
One Last Wish,
Stetsasonic,
Nas,
Junior Murvin,
Kaleidoscope,
Qualms,
Procol Harum,
Danielle Patucci,
Warsaw,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Soft Machine,
Eric Copeland,
The Modern Lovers,
Zero Boys,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.