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 Morocco and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Spokane.
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 snare 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 Crime to the electroclash 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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Masters at Work,
Godley & Creme,
Heaven 17,
Wasted Youth,
Idris Muhammad,
Q and Not U,
Arab on Radar,
T.S.O.L.,
Cybotron,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Thompson Twins,
Bobby Womack,
Fat Boys,
The Music Machine,
Swell Maps,
The Alarm Clocks,
Procol Harum,
Radiopuhelimet,
Skarface,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Radio Birdman,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ohio Players,
Boz Scaggs,
Sonny Sharrock,
Peter & Gordon,
Joyce Sims,
UT,
The American Breed,
Avey Tare,
Derrick Morgan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Public Image Ltd.,
John Holt,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Skatalites,
The Sound,
Hardrive,
Pharoah Sanders,
Japan,
Susan Cadogan,
Outsiders,
Barry Ungar,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Saints,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sam Rivers,
Lakeside,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
China Crisis,
Erasure,
Altered Images,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gang of Four,
Prince Buster,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.