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 Mauritius and from Glasgow.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Accra.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Alarm Clocks to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sarah Menescal. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Chocolate Watch Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
B.T. Express,
The Toasters,
Anakelly,
Oblivians,
The Cure,
Essential Logic,
David Bowie,
Sound Behaviour,
Popol Vuh,
Model 500,
Johnny Clarke,
Spoonie Gee,
The Last Poets,
The Angels of Light,
Sparks,
Suicide,
A Certain Ratio,
Metal Thangz,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Slick Rick,
Main Source,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Vogues,
Nico,
Organ,
Saccharine Trust,
Section 25,
Tubeway Army,
The Black Dice,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Deakin,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Monolake,
Maleditus Sound,
Eden Ahbez,
Rekid,
Sixth Finger,
Peter and Kerry,
Kaleidoscope,
Blancmange,
Alison Limerick,
Jeff Mills,
Cymande,
The Residents,
The Names,
Blossom Toes,
The Seeds,
Soul Sonic Force,
Aswad,
Con Funk Shun,
The Barracudas,
Marine Girls,
Ludus,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Durutti Column,
Procol Harum,
Dennis Brown,
Soft Machine,
Donald Byrd,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.