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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Chrome to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalann,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mandrill,
Mo-Dettes,
June of 44,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eric Copeland,
Don Cherry,
X-102,
Lebanon Hanover,
Amazonics,
Maurizio,
Drexciya,
Delon & Dalcan,
Grandmaster Flash,
Morten Harket,
a-ha,
The Dirtbombs,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Red Krayola,
The Knickerbockers,
Jesper Dahlback,
John Cale,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Wasted Youth,
Tres Demented,
Agitation Free,
Jeff Lynne,
Quadrant,
Jerry Gold Smith,
John Holt,
Oblivians,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Depeche Mode,
Ralphi Rosario,
Simply Red,
The Star Department,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
the Slits,
Minnie Riperton,
The Mummies,
DJ Style,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Radio Birdman,
Circle Jerks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Deakin,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Shuggie Otis,
The Five Americans,
Junior Murvin,
Roy Ayers,
Aural Exciters,
The Monks,
Royal Trux,
Kevin Saunderson,
JFA,
Japan,
Ohio Players,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers.
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.