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 Palau and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 oboe 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 Inner City to the rap 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 Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
the Fania All-Stars,
Crime,
Alton Ellis,
The Fall,
Minutemen,
Man Parrish,
Ronnie Foster,
the Human League,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Swans,
Marvin Gaye,
The Sonics,
La Düsseldorf,
Pulsallama,
MDC,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Idris Muhammad,
Jerry's Kids,
Au Pairs,
Grauzone,
Crispian St. Peters,
Derrick Morgan,
The Vogues,
Boogie Down Productions,
Country Teasers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Harry Pussy,
Lindisfarne,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Modern Lovers,
Joyce Sims,
Metal Thangz,
James White and The Blacks,
Funkadelic,
Hashim,
Thee Headcoats,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bill Wells,
Janne Schatter,
Tres Demented,
Interpol,
Reagan Youth,
Judy Mowatt,
The Techniques,
Wally Richardson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Evens,
Groovy Waters,
Kool Moe Dee,
David Axelrod,
The Last Poets,
The Misunderstood,
Radio Birdman,
The Grass Roots,
The Blues Magoos,
Anakelly,
Skaos,
Joensuu 1685,
Angry Samoans,
Todd Terry,
Howard Jones,
Peter and Kerry,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.