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 Cuba and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 David Bowie 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 Blues Magoos to the grime 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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can 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 harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a China Crisis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Surgeon,
Althea and Donna,
The Motions,
John Holt,
Shuggie Otis,
Brothers Johnson,
Nas,
Max Romeo,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bush Tetras,
Drive Like Jehu,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eli Mardock,
The Zeros,
Bill Wells,
David Bowie,
Fort Wilson Riot,
In Retrospect,
Main Source,
Archie Shepp,
Charles Mingus,
The Alarm Clocks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pantytec,
Todd Terry,
Lyres,
The Blues Magoos,
Kenny Larkin,
U.S. Maple,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Beau Brummels,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Audionom,
The Victims,
Drexciya,
Duran Duran,
Marvin Gaye,
Mantronix,
Crime,
Y Pants,
Jacques Brel,
Bang On A Can,
Gang of Four,
China Crisis,
Rhythm & Sound,
Matthew Bourne,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cybotron,
Hasil Adkins,
Pere Ubu,
Minor Threat,
Slick Rick,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Al Stewart,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Nils Olav,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.