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 Nigeria and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Monks 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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Moby Grape,
Monolake,
Pole,
The Barracudas,
The Offenders,
Icehouse,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Livin' Joy,
Suburban Knight,
The Pretty Things,
Angry Samoans,
Intrusion,
Talk Talk,
Connie Case,
F. McDonald,
The Tremeloes,
Dark Day,
Eli Mardock,
John Coltrane,
The Count Five,
Ronnie Foster,
Das Ding,
Ultravox,
The Buckinghams,
Boz Scaggs,
Schoolly D,
Depeche Mode,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The American Breed,
Henry Cow,
Stetsasonic,
The Misunderstood,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Todd Terry,
Althea and Donna,
Surgeon,
The Moody Blues,
Chrome,
K-Klass,
Lyres,
Bizarre Inc.,
Goldenarms,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lucky Dragons,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Television Personalities,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Arcadia,
The Seeds,
MC5,
Aural Exciters,
The Knickerbockers,
Josef K,
Cybotron,
Rosa Yemen,
Japan,
DJ Sneak,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.