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 Kiribati and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Ash Ra Tempel. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul II Soul record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Depeche Mode,
Roxy Music,
Suicide,
Electric Prunes,
Easy Going,
Tom Boy,
a-ha,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Soft Cell,
Sex Pistols,
DJ Sneak,
Sun Ra,
The Slackers,
The Litter,
Television Personalities,
Sight & Sound,
Minutemen,
Mark Hollis,
Marshall Jefferson,
Inner City,
Dual Sessions,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Parry Music,
Average White Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jeff Mills,
Robert Görl,
Youth Brigade,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Buckinghams,
Fat Boys,
June Days,
Blossom Toes,
Colin Newman,
The New Christs,
The Skatalites,
Ken Boothe,
Accadde A,
Carl Craig,
Moby Grape,
Dennis Brown,
Outsiders,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Hashim,
Wolf Eyes,
Fela Kuti,
John Coltrane,
Intrusion,
Gichy Dan,
Drexciya,
Scratch Acid,
Sandy B,
Morten Harket,
Jimmy McGriff,
Altered Images,
The Motions,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Brick,
Davy DMX,
Monks,
Lucky Dragons,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.