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 Malaysia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Spokane.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the snare 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 Steve Hackett to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Robert Wyatt,
Con Funk Shun,
Urselle,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Shoche,
The Knickerbockers,
The Standells,
Rosa Yemen,
The Invisible,
Wally Richardson,
The United States of America,
Barclay James Harvest,
John Foxx,
Public Enemy,
Qualms,
Rod Modell,
Surgeon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
John Coltrane,
Judy Mowatt,
D'Angelo,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Dave Clark Five,
Second Layer,
Bill Wells,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Fortunes,
Connie Case,
Crash Course in Science,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Delta 5,
Tears for Fears,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rites of Spring,
Kayak,
Aswad,
Hasil Adkins,
Sonic Youth,
Jandek,
Swell Maps,
Cal Tjader,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
10cc,
Kas Product,
Lalo Schifrin,
Robert Görl,
Interpol,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Excepter,
Lou Christie,
Funkadelic,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jacob Miller,
Youth Brigade,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Reagan Youth,
Deakin,
Eden Ahbez,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.