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 Iraq and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Larry & the Blue Notes to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MDC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flash Fearless,
James White and The Blacks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
CMW,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Fear,
A Certain Ratio,
The Real Kids,
Johnny Clarke,
K-Klass,
The Young Rascals,
Sun Ra,
Wally Richardson,
Ponytail,
The Leaves,
the Swans,
Pierre Henry,
Intrusion,
Aswad,
Harpers Bizarre,
Josef K,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Fat Boys,
Rakim,
Lungfish,
Rosa Yemen,
Althea and Donna,
Crooked Eye,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Black Flag,
Clear Light,
Suicide,
Motorama,
Groovy Waters,
Ultimate Spinach,
Eve St. Jones,
Jacques Brel,
Sonic Youth,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kerri Chandler,
Swell Maps,
Accadde A,
Moby Grape,
Robert Görl,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Moleskins,
Connie Case,
Skarface,
Nas,
The Misunderstood,
Bob Dylan,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Public Enemy,
The Sonics,
The Slackers,
The Techniques,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Icehouse,
Nils Olav,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.