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 Swaziland and from Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Charles Mingus to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Slackers. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
The Stooges,
EPMD,
Thee Headcoats,
Porter Ricks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Joey Negro,
Depeche Mode,
Pussy Galore,
Bob Dylan,
Interpol,
Nirvana,
Ronan,
Talk Talk,
Rotary Connection,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Massinfluence,
Boz Scaggs,
Sound Behaviour,
Electric Light Orchestra,
John Holt,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Joyce Sims,
Blossom Toes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Drive Like Jehu,
Icehouse,
Hot Snakes,
Roger Hodgson,
OOIOO,
Black Pus,
Popol Vuh,
T.S.O.L.,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Neil Young,
The Residents,
The Fire Engines,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Joensuu 1685,
These Immortal Souls,
Joe Smooth,
Dennis Brown,
AZ,
Bauhaus,
Pere Ubu,
Fad Gadget,
Gang of Four,
Gil Scott Heron,
Technova,
The Beau Brummels,
Buzzcocks,
Ten City,
Iggy Pop,
Amazonics,
Arthur Verocai,
The Zeros,
Alison Limerick,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.