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 Estonia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 chamberlin 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 Blues Magoos to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 JFA. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
The Sound,
Country Teasers,
Cymande,
Con Funk Shun,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Techniques,
Buzzcocks,
Easy Going,
Harry Pussy,
the Bar-Kays,
Faust,
Tubeway Army,
The Move,
Idris Muhammad,
Fugazi,
Gang Green,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Mummies,
CMW,
Circle Jerks,
Agitation Free,
Sugar Minott,
The Barracudas,
Scan 7,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mars,
Livin' Joy,
The Smoke,
JFA,
cv313,
Donny Hathaway,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Black Dice,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Moss Icon,
The Smiths,
Tears for Fears,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Delon & Dalcan,
Swans,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Amazonics,
Television Personalities,
Smog,
The Detroit Cobras,
OOIOO,
Underground Resistance,
LL Cool J,
EPMD,
Ronan,
Mr. Review,
MDC,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Evens,
Pere Ubu,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.