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 Thailand and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 marimba 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 Flamin' Groovies to the crunk 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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood 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?
Gang Gang Dance,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bad Manners,
Black Bananas,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Neu!,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Excepter,
Skriet,
Ultravox,
Kaleidoscope,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Stockholm Monsters,
Minnie Riperton,
Juan Atkins,
Black Moon,
Isaac Hayes,
Sparks,
Drive Like Jehu,
Babytalk,
Fat Boys,
Dennis Brown,
Procol Harum,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Hoover,
Absolute Body Control,
Thee Headcoats,
The Durutti Column,
Mo-Dettes,
X-102,
The Mummies,
The Dead C,
Pere Ubu,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Tres Demented,
The Shadows of Knight,
John Cale,
Aaron Thompson,
Flipper,
Soulsonic Force,
Moss Icon,
Rhythm & Sound,
La Düsseldorf,
Max Romeo,
Neil Young,
Sällskapet,
Agitation Free,
The Offenders,
Malaria!,
Kerrie Biddell,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Guru Guru,
This Heat,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Model 500,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Erasure,
Byron Stingily,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sixth Finger,
Matthew Bourne,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.