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 Bangladesh and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Jesus and Mary Chain to the grime 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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Buzzcocks,
Ultravox,
The Mojo Men,
The Vogues,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Victims,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Joe Finger,
Ten City,
X-102,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Move,
Monks,
Minny Pops,
Marshall Jefferson,
Siglo XX,
Lindisfarne,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Johnny Clarke,
Blancmange,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mary Jane Girls,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ronan,
Hardrive,
The Zeros,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Fad Gadget,
Smog,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Radiohead,
Sonic Youth,
Barbara Tucker,
10cc,
Black Flag,
Sun Ra,
Little Man,
Marc Almond,
Black Pus,
a-ha,
Yaz,
Kerri Chandler,
Clear Light,
ABBA,
DJ Sneak,
Kas Product,
Stockholm Monsters,
Oblivians,
Eden Ahbez,
Subhumans,
The Cramps,
Arab on Radar,
Tres Demented,
48th St. Collective,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.