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 Haiti and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Soft Cell 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 Q and Not U. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Basic Channel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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?
Lightning Bolt,
Zapp,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Eric Dolphy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gang Starr,
Yellowson,
Electric Prunes,
Eric Copeland,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Wake,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Monks,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mantronix,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Roger Hodgson,
Underground Resistance,
Colin Newman,
JFA,
Can,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The United States of America,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gabor Szabo,
E-Dancer,
Charles Mingus,
Scientists,
Blancmange,
Kool Moe Dee,
Toni Rubio,
Donald Byrd,
Soulsonic Force,
Blossom Toes,
Ludus,
Depeche Mode,
The Raincoats,
Joe Smooth,
Barrington Levy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pagans,
Cluster,
Los Fastidios,
Crash Course in Science,
John Holt,
the Swans,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dead Boys,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Funkadelic,
The Grass Roots,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ituana,
Traffic Nightmare,
Erykah Badu,
Hasil Adkins,
The Dirtbombs,
Rod Modell,
The Birthday Party,
Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D.
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.