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 Ghana and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mumbai.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 T. Rex to the rap 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
Scan 7,
Pole,
Pere Ubu,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Funky Four + One,
Michelle Simonal,
Morten Harket,
Sight & Sound,
Ultimate Spinach,
AZ,
K-Klass,
Surgeon,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rites of Spring,
The Shadows of Knight,
Qualms,
Skaos,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Little Man,
the Fania All-Stars,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Move,
Scratch Acid,
Harry Pussy,
Eve St. Jones,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Fall,
The Last Poets,
Sam Rivers,
Mandrill,
Minor Threat,
Derrick May,
Althea and Donna,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Marmalade,
Davy DMX,
Crash Course in Science,
The Litter,
Kenny Larkin,
The Wake,
Chris Corsano,
Junior Murvin,
Joensuu 1685,
In Retrospect,
Lou Reed,
Donald Byrd,
Electric Prunes,
The Fuzztones,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Agent Orange,
The Angels of Light,
The Count Five,
June of 44,
Minutemen,
Ultra Naté,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mars,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Knickerbockers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Cybotron,
Rapeman,
Absolute Body Control,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.