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 New Zealand and from Woodstock.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the 808 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 Babytalk to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soulsonic Force 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Zapp,
MC5,
Minutemen,
Chris Corsano,
Magazine,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Vogues,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sugar Minott,
R.M.O.,
Public Enemy,
Albert Ayler,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lalann,
Gang Green,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cluster,
Kurtis Blow,
Gang of Four,
Supertramp,
Eric Dolphy,
This Heat,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Victims,
Camberwell Now,
The Birthday Party,
X-Ray Spex,
The Smiths,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ludus,
Gang Starr,
Vainqueur,
Junior Murvin,
Livin' Joy,
Mark Hollis,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Skaos,
the Sonics,
Rites of Spring,
Japan,
The Leaves,
Donald Byrd,
Talk Talk,
Funkadelic,
Shuggie Otis,
Lakeside,
Warsaw,
Pussy Galore,
Gabor Szabo,
Rekid,
The Moody Blues,
Chrome,
Y Pants,
Oneida,
Leonard Cohen,
Unrelated Segments,
Lou Christie,
Grauzone,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.