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 Luxembourg and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 clarinet 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 Marmalade to the rock 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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
The Motions,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Slick Rick,
Flipper,
The Trojans,
Parry Music,
Dorothy Ashby,
Fad Gadget,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fluxion,
Rod Modell,
Susan Cadogan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mo-Dettes,
Johnny Osbourne,
Nirvana,
Swell Maps,
Camberwell Now,
Shuggie Otis,
Blossom Toes,
The Remains,
Cal Tjader,
The Five Americans,
Moss Icon,
Terrestrial Tones,
Alton Ellis,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lungfish,
Eric Dolphy,
The Buckinghams,
MC5,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Monolake,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sixth Finger,
Glenn Branca,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Durutti Column,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Moody Blues,
the Human League,
Crooked Eye,
Make Up,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Johnny Clarke,
Connie Case,
The Star Department,
Mary Jane Girls,
Unrelated Segments,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Skatalites,
Black Moon,
Erasure,
Joey Negro,
James White and The Blacks,
the Association,
Fifty Foot Hose,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Magma,
Idris Muhammad,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.