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 Italy and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Dirtbombs to the electroclash 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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
The Black Dice,
JFA,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Yazoo,
John Holt,
Dawn Penn,
Quadrant,
Zero Boys,
Essential Logic,
Flipper,
Das Ding,
Hoover,
T. Rex,
Y Pants,
Dual Sessions,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Wasted Youth,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Radiohead,
Flash Fearless,
New York Dolls,
Todd Rundgren,
Chrome,
Infiniti,
Brass Construction,
Skarface,
FM Einheit,
Soul Sonic Force,
Crime,
Hasil Adkins,
Barrington Levy,
Charles Mingus,
Minor Threat,
Scott Walker,
Traffic Nightmare,
Yaz,
Scrapy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Anthony Braxton,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Bar-Kays,
Pulsallama,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Surgeon,
Oblivians,
The Knickerbockers,
Mary Jane Girls,
Maleditus Sound,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Letta Mbulu,
Patti Smith,
Rufus Thomas,
Bush Tetras,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Last Poets,
Thee Headcoats,
Eric Copeland,
Scientists,
Be Bop Deluxe,
David Bowie,
Black Moon,
Eve St. Jones,
Sun City Girls,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.