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 Turkmenistan and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Holger Czukay 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 D'Angelo to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doors record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Ultra Naté,
Aloha Tigers,
Stiv Bators,
The Saints,
The Seeds,
Livin' Joy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Cluster,
Guru Guru,
The Martian,
Ituana,
Kurtis Blow,
The Golliwogs,
Reuben Wilson,
Model 500,
Procol Harum,
The Residents,
Agitation Free,
Janne Schatter,
FM Einheit,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bang On A Can,
World's Most,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Slits,
Panda Bear,
KRS-One,
Altered Images,
Das Ding,
Pole,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Eric Dolphy,
Vainqueur,
Ponytail,
Michelle Simonal,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Deakin,
the Human League,
Swans,
Ralphi Rosario,
Massinfluence,
Mantronix,
The Wake,
Harry Pussy,
Index,
Little Man,
Carl Craig,
Yusef Lateef,
The Doobie Brothers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Peter and Kerry,
Kayak,
Surgeon,
Henry Cow,
Black Pus,
Sex Pistols,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Steve Hackett,
Nick Fraelich,
Scratch Acid,
Chris Corsano,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.