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 Rwanda and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Erykah Badu to the rap 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arcadia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul II Soul,
Clear Light,
Nik Kershaw,
Johnny Clarke,
The Remains,
Sister Nancy,
Audionom,
Pantytec,
New York Dolls,
Underground Resistance,
Black Bananas,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Q65,
Negative Approach,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cymande,
In Retrospect,
Alice Coltrane,
Althea and Donna,
Pere Ubu,
Public Image Ltd.,
Fat Boys,
The Fortunes,
The Skatalites,
Quando Quango,
The Kinks,
Crooked Eye,
The Flesh Eaters,
X-102,
Soft Cell,
D'Angelo,
Rapeman,
Technova,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gichy Dan,
Roxette,
Cameo,
Ronnie Foster,
Buzzcocks,
The Doors,
Darondo,
Juan Atkins,
Wings,
The United States of America,
Freddie Wadling,
Bobby Sherman,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Terrestrial Tones,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Fad Gadget,
Delon & Dalcan,
Moebius,
Girls At Our Best!,
Half Japanese,
Lightning Bolt,
Average White Band,
Pierre Henry,
UT,
The Red Krayola,
Glambeats Corp.,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.