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 Albania and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 sitar 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 The Misunderstood to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
The Blues Magoos,
Vainqueur,
Tres Demented,
Niagra,
Marmalade,
Ituana,
June of 44,
The Cure,
Television Personalities,
The Modern Lovers,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Peter and Kerry,
Pagans,
Sun City Girls,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
B.T. Express,
The Sonics,
Carl Craig,
The Human League,
These Immortal Souls,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Urselle,
Robert Wyatt,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Soft Cell,
Eurythmics,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kevin Saunderson,
EPMD,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Tears for Fears,
The Stooges,
Severed Heads,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bang On A Can,
Lindisfarne,
Deakin,
Crash Course in Science,
Maleditus Sound,
The Fugs,
Bob Dylan,
Nik Kershaw,
Pole,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Rakim,
Barry Ungar,
Livin' Joy,
John Holt,
Donald Byrd,
OOIOO,
Altered Images,
Ossler,
The Techniques,
Moby Grape,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.