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 El Salvador and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Masters at Work to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deepchord record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Eden Ahbez,
Vladislav Delay,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Leaves,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Crispian St. Peters,
Freddie Wadling,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Raincoats,
Audionom,
the Slits,
Man Parrish,
Thee Headcoats,
The Modern Lovers,
Wolf Eyes,
The Fire Engines,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Malaria!,
Slick Rick,
The Electric Prunes,
The J.B.'s,
Eurythmics,
Unwound,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
U.S. Maple,
Public Image Ltd.,
Inner City,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dead Boys,
World's Most,
Delon & Dalcan,
Wally Richardson,
Ponytail,
Mad Mike,
The Motions,
Bluetip,
Laurel Aitken,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ten City,
Flash Fearless,
Nico,
Cymande,
Little Man,
Procol Harum,
David Bowie,
OOIOO,
Porter Ricks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Todd Terry,
Soft Cell,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Can,
Joey Negro,
Kerri Chandler,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Angels of Light,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.