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 Bhutan and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Model 500. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Average White Band,
JFA,
Letta Mbulu,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Sonics,
Joensuu 1685,
Zapp,
The Divine Comedy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ludus,
Josef K,
Crash Course in Science,
Crooked Eye,
Metal Thangz,
ABBA,
Funky Four + One,
The Toasters,
Patti Smith,
Parry Music,
The Dead C,
Radio Birdman,
Mark Hollis,
The Music Machine,
Nirvana,
Cymande,
The Cure,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Colin Newman,
KRS-One,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Fela Kuti,
Massinfluence,
Infiniti,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Beau Brummels,
ABC,
The Blackbyrds,
Mad Mike,
Mr. Review,
Slick Rick,
Sex Pistols,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
New York Dolls,
Bauhaus,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Barracudas,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bob Dylan,
Roy Ayers,
Masters at Work,
Angry Samoans,
Heaven 17,
Rekid,
The Cramps,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Saints,
the Fania All-Stars,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Gap Band,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.