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 Lesotho and from Columbus.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 MC5 to the techno 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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band 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 organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Grauzone,
Angry Samoans,
Sam Rivers,
Avey Tare,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Motions,
The Red Krayola,
Bobby Sherman,
Althea and Donna,
Alphaville,
Dave Gahan,
Lalann,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Masters at Work,
Al Stewart,
Terrestrial Tones,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Dead C,
T. Rex,
Severed Heads,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gil Scott Heron,
La Düsseldorf,
PIL,
The Kinks,
The Martian,
Minnie Riperton,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ronan,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Jeff Mills,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Evens,
Negative Approach,
Newcleus,
Crime,
Pulsallama,
Sällskapet,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Zapp,
Outsiders,
Simply Red,
Lower 48,
Eric Copeland,
Bronski Beat,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bluetip,
Von Mondo,
Y Pants,
Idris Muhammad,
The Toasters,
The Fortunes,
The Fuzztones,
Deadbeat,
The United States of America,
Rufus Thomas,
The Dave Clark Five,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.