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 Sweden and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 808 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 Monks to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonny Sharrock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bang On A Can,
The Pretty Things,
Ornette Coleman,
Man Parrish,
Black Sheep,
The Buckinghams,
Malaria!,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Shuggie Otis,
UT,
Marcia Griffiths,
Soul II Soul,
Crispian St. Peters,
Can,
Kayak,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Boogie Down Productions,
Crash Course in Science,
Television Personalities,
FM Einheit,
Quadrant,
ABBA,
Barrington Levy,
Neu!,
Minny Pops,
Amazonics,
Fugazi,
Sex Pistols,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lakeside,
Au Pairs,
Joey Negro,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Blackbyrds,
Pere Ubu,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Underground Resistance,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Soft Cell,
Intrusion,
Isaac Hayes,
Spandau Ballet,
Rufus Thomas,
Motorama,
Rosa Yemen,
Unrelated Segments,
Scan 7,
Silicon Teens,
Althea and Donna,
Yellowson,
Nation of Ulysses,
Oneida,
Spoonie Gee,
The Smiths,
Alton Ellis,
Harry Pussy,
E-Dancer,
Ten City,
Gabor Szabo,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.