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 Micronesia and from Bremen.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Calgary.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 FM Einheit to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
The Residents,
Cymande,
Barry Ungar,
Amazonics,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lalann,
Don Cherry,
Brand Nubian,
Popol Vuh,
Avey Tare,
Freddie Wadling,
China Crisis,
Eurythmics,
New York Dolls,
The Walker Brothers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Icehouse,
Angry Samoans,
Chrome,
The Remains,
T. Rex,
The Count Five,
Tim Buckley,
June Days,
The Standells,
Animal Collective,
Marc Almond,
Ponytail,
The Blackbyrds,
Rekid,
A Certain Ratio,
James White and The Blacks,
The Modern Lovers,
Peter and Kerry,
Barrington Levy,
PIL,
The J.B.'s,
Terrestrial Tones,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Arthur Verocai,
Electric Prunes,
Zapp,
Sällskapet,
Marvin Gaye,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
E-Dancer,
F. McDonald,
The Techniques,
Lower 48,
Sun Ra,
Pere Ubu,
The Grass Roots,
Sex Pistols,
Mission of Burma,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gang Starr,
Shuggie Otis,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.