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 Mauritius and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 snare 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 Donald Byrd to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Faust,
Barry Ungar,
The Human League,
Eve St. Jones,
The Residents,
The Index,
The Slackers,
Rod Modell,
Pantaleimon,
Donald Byrd,
Big Daddy Kane,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Organ,
Underground Resistance,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Magma,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Darondo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Royal Trux,
Alison Limerick,
Eddi Front,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Metal Thangz,
Archie Shepp,
Deadbeat,
Susan Cadogan,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Beau Brummels,
8 Eyed Spy,
Crooked Eye,
Barbara Tucker,
Slick Rick,
Pharoah Sanders,
D'Angelo,
Iggy Pop,
Duran Duran,
Jacob Miller,
Rekid,
Carl Craig,
Lyres,
Blake Baxter,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kurtis Blow,
Terrestrial Tones,
Yellowson,
Rufus Thomas,
Erykah Badu,
Andrew Hill,
Rotary Connection,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Malaria!,
Barrington Levy,
Au Pairs,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
EPMD,
The Busters,
Sixth Finger,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.