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 Djibouti and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 The Detroit Cobras to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Anakelly,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Oneida,
Maurizio,
John Holt,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Delta 5,
Quando Quango,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ohio Players,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Brand Nubian,
Brothers Johnson,
PIL,
U.S. Maple,
Fad Gadget,
Depeche Mode,
Althea and Donna,
Absolute Body Control,
Chris Corsano,
Pantytec,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Shuggie Otis,
the Swans,
Mandrill,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
One Last Wish,
The Martian,
Bootsy Collins,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sparks,
Chrome,
Peter & Gordon,
Marc Almond,
Stockholm Monsters,
Icehouse,
Ronnie Foster,
L. Decosne,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mo-Dettes,
Barrington Levy,
Guru Guru,
Sex Pistols,
John Coltrane,
The Dirtbombs,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eli Mardock,
Pantaleimon,
The Techniques,
Unrelated Segments,
Altered Images,
T.S.O.L.,
The Black Dice,
The Beau Brummels,
Alphaville,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Oblivians,
Crispian St. Peters,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.