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 Kosovo and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 chamberlin 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 Jeru the Damaja to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Boredoms,
Lightning Bolt,
Das Ding,
EPMD,
Unrelated Segments,
Davy DMX,
Q65,
A Certain Ratio,
Slave,
The Fuzztones,
Lalo Schifrin,
Clear Light,
Ten City,
Al Stewart,
Barrington Levy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Music Machine,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Invisible,
The Fugs,
The Electric Prunes,
The Offenders,
Nico,
Altered Images,
Neu!,
the Bar-Kays,
Johnny Clarke,
Fat Boys,
Prince Buster,
DJ Style,
Bluetip,
Hardrive,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Echospace,
Scion,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
U.S. Maple,
Visage,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Hashim,
Flamin' Groovies,
Radio Birdman,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Warsaw,
Supertramp,
Spoonie Gee,
ABC,
Cal Tjader,
Crispian St. Peters,
Y Pants,
Television Personalities,
The Human League,
Alphaville,
Soft Cell,
The Pretty Things,
Essential Logic,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.