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 Cambodia and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Magazine to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
The Techniques,
The Durutti Column,
The Associates,
Cluster,
Minutemen,
Glenn Branca,
the Germs,
Zapp,
Gichy Dan,
David Bowie,
The Wake,
Pantytec,
Yusef Lateef,
Whodini,
Livin' Joy,
The Blues Magoos,
Deepchord,
Pulsallama,
Lucky Dragons,
The Human League,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Popol Vuh,
B.T. Express,
Roxette,
Thompson Twins,
Ronnie Foster,
Swell Maps,
Delta 5,
EPMD,
Country Teasers,
Rotary Connection,
The Names,
Lightning Bolt,
Avey Tare,
Lungfish,
Ultimate Spinach,
Spandau Ballet,
Public Image Ltd.,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Flesh Eaters,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Slackers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Wings,
Davy DMX,
Tubeway Army,
The Smiths,
Jerry's Kids,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ultravox,
Young Marble Giants,
Das Ding,
Nik Kershaw,
Anthony Braxton,
Ornette Coleman,
The Doobie Brothers,
Massinfluence,
The Blackbyrds,
Joe Smooth,
The Fugs,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.