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 Mozambique and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 güiro 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam to the rap 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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Goldenarms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxy Music,
The Index,
Crash Course in Science,
Warsaw,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Eurythmics,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Alphaville,
Sixth Finger,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Selecter,
The Young Rascals,
Barrington Levy,
ABC,
Minnie Riperton,
The Beau Brummels,
Isaac Hayes,
Patti Smith,
Warren Ellis,
Talk Talk,
the Human League,
Grey Daturas,
Boredoms,
The Smoke,
The Trojans,
Jacques Brel,
Amazonics,
Underground Resistance,
Colin Newman,
Pulsallama,
Outsiders,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eric Copeland,
The Seeds,
Ultra Naté,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jeff Mills,
Ken Boothe,
The Human League,
F. McDonald,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Cecil Taylor,
Peter and Kerry,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kool Moe Dee,
Funkadelic,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Tom Boy,
Lalann,
Matthew Bourne,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Donny Hathaway,
Yellowson,
Fela Kuti,
Marmalade,
The Fall,
The Cure,
Roger Hodgson,
The Tremeloes,
the Slits,
the Soft Cell,
Bauhaus,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.