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 Zimbabwe and from Mexico City.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lille.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Silicon Teens to the punk 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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eric B and Rakim,
Shoche,
Barrington Levy,
Soul Sonic Force,
E-Dancer,
Eric Dolphy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Minny Pops,
kango's stein massive,
Kerrie Biddell,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Joe Smooth,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Barry Ungar,
Pantaleimon,
Erykah Badu,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Last Poets,
Faraquet,
The Tremeloes,
Isaac Hayes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Offenders,
Johnny Clarke,
Rod Modell,
DJ Style,
The Gun Club,
Tears for Fears,
Pere Ubu,
The Fortunes,
Soulsonic Force,
the Germs,
Unwound,
Toni Rubio,
Dorothy Ashby,
ABBA,
Cluster,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gabor Szabo,
The Selecter,
Das Ding,
The Doors,
Gang Gang Dance,
Khruangbin,
Black Bananas,
Funky Four + One,
The Blues Magoos,
Outsiders,
Scientists,
Lungfish,
Yusef Lateef,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
PIL,
the Slits,
Gichy Dan,
Mandrill,
Suicide,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.