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 Togo and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 spring reverb 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 Kurtis Blow to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Cameo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Porter Ricks,
Massinfluence,
The Toasters,
The Moleskins,
Theoretical Girls,
Niagra,
John Coltrane,
Buzzcocks,
DJ Style,
Dead Boys,
Jandek,
Marvin Gaye,
Trumans Water,
Quantec,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Japan,
Simply Red,
In Retrospect,
Amazonics,
Camouflage,
Pussy Galore,
Robert Wyatt,
Roy Ayers,
Tomorrow,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
PIL,
Black Sheep,
Lucky Dragons,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Steve Hackett,
John Lydon,
The J.B.'s,
Wasted Youth,
The Associates,
Sparks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sugar Minott,
Groovy Waters,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Stooges,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Thee Headcoats,
The Pretty Things,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
48th St. Collective,
Byron Stingily,
Y Pants,
Dave Gahan,
The Music Machine,
Boz Scaggs,
Swans,
Flipper,
the Slits,
The Slits,
The Fire Engines,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.