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 Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Donald Fagen 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 Big Daddy Kane to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
Mantronix,
The Fuzztones,
The Sound,
Al Stewart,
Deadbeat,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mark Hollis,
Ludus,
Eric Dolphy,
Jesper Dahlback,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Niagra,
Second Layer,
A Certain Ratio,
The Smoke,
The Birthday Party,
The Misunderstood,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Cramps,
The Sonics,
The Moleskins,
Young Marble Giants,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kas Product,
Soul Sonic Force,
Cabaret Voltaire,
48th St. Collective,
Oneida,
CMW,
Sam Rivers,
The Count Five,
Lucky Dragons,
Janne Schatter,
Scratch Acid,
Sixth Finger,
Groovy Waters,
Visage,
The Move,
Pylon,
The Last Poets,
The Stooges,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ralphi Rosario,
Wasted Youth,
Fifty Foot Hose,
K-Klass,
Wire,
Cecil Taylor,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Raincoats,
Duran Duran,
Kaleidoscope,
Skarface,
Buzzcocks,
Dawn Penn,
Metal Thangz,
Swell Maps,
The United States of America,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.