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 Marshall Islands and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Lower 48 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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Tears for Fears,
Groovy Waters,
Icehouse,
the Normal,
The Selecter,
The Vogues,
Gang Green,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lalann,
The Offenders,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Interpol,
Jacques Brel,
David Bowie,
The Victims,
Peter & Gordon,
Bobby Sherman,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Index,
Porter Ricks,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Blackbyrds,
Scratch Acid,
Boz Scaggs,
Can,
The Seeds,
Connie Case,
The Electric Prunes,
The Invisible,
Bootsy Collins,
The Searchers,
Arcadia,
New Age Steppers,
Smog,
The Gap Band,
Fela Kuti,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Aswad,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Niagra,
The Dave Clark Five,
Liliput,
Brand Nubian,
The Fuzztones,
Judy Mowatt,
Flamin' Groovies,
Graham Central Station,
Suicide,
Quantec,
The Monks,
Kerri Chandler,
Kurtis Blow,
Sun Ra,
Prince Buster,
Piero Umiliani,
Black Sheep,
Ossler,
AZ,
Blossom Toes,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.