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 Uruguay and from Columbus.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Black Pus 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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
New Age Steppers,
Arab on Radar,
Todd Terry,
Lou Christie,
The Tremeloes,
Patti Smith,
Nils Olav,
The Golliwogs,
Yellowson,
Gabor Szabo,
Depeche Mode,
CMW,
The Gun Club,
The Skatalites,
The Blackbyrds,
Funkadelic,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Chris & Cosey,
Max Romeo,
The Seeds,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Derrick May,
Black Moon,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kerri Chandler,
The Gladiators,
Ralphi Rosario,
Skaos,
A Certain Ratio,
The United States of America,
Wings,
Pylon,
Malaria!,
Bootsy Collins,
Talk Talk,
Newcleus,
Lightning Bolt,
Man Eating Sloth,
Von Mondo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rod Modell,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Searchers,
Mr. Review,
Thee Headcoats,
Soul Sonic Force,
Yaz,
Ohio Players,
Mad Mike,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bill Near,
Pere Ubu,
Joey Negro,
Hardrive,
Eve St. Jones,
Mars,
Absolute Body Control,
Rufus Thomas,
The Misunderstood,
Lee Hazlewood,
Byron Stingily,
R.M.O.,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.