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 Tajikistan and from Tehran.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Buzzcocks to the grunge 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
Tears for Fears,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rod Modell,
Shuggie Otis,
Trumans Water,
Joe Smooth,
Saccharine Trust,
Erasure,
Drive Like Jehu,
Visage,
Nick Fraelich,
John Coltrane,
Soul Sonic Force,
La Düsseldorf,
Desert Stars,
The Martian,
Maurizio,
Jerry's Kids,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Neil Young,
Fugazi,
Procol Harum,
Avey Tare,
The Dead C,
Sound Behaviour,
Pagans,
Terry Callier,
Electric Prunes,
The Human League,
The Techniques,
Lou Reed,
The Residents,
Ultravox,
F. McDonald,
The Divine Comedy,
Surgeon,
Massinfluence,
Howard Jones,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Depeche Mode,
Cameo,
Infiniti,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Chris Corsano,
Delon & Dalcan,
Dawn Penn,
Eric Dolphy,
Ronan,
Swell Maps,
Swans,
The Shadows of Knight,
Nirvana,
The Slits,
Slave,
The Moleskins,
Ituana,
Mad Mike,
Reuben Wilson,
New Age Steppers,
Section 25,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.