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 Belize and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Seoul.
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 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Fela Kuti to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five 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 rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Johnny Clarke,
Rites of Spring,
Lower 48,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Supertramp,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rapeman,
Cybotron,
Sexual Harrassment,
Echospace,
Swans,
Throbbing Gristle,
Howard Jones,
the Soft Cell,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Qualms,
The Standells,
La Düsseldorf,
Dead Boys,
Soul Sonic Force,
48th St. Collective,
The Blues Magoos,
Harry Pussy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Godley & Creme,
Chris & Cosey,
Arab on Radar,
Junior Murvin,
Bootsy Collins,
The Knickerbockers,
Bauhaus,
The Gories,
Kaleidoscope,
Anthony Braxton,
Youth Brigade,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Moody Blues,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Fuzztones,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Funkadelic,
10cc,
Unrelated Segments,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
David Axelrod,
Marmalade,
Josef K,
Malaria!,
The Zeros,
Ten City,
Andrew Hill,
Underground Resistance,
The Skatalites,
Skriet,
Vladislav Delay,
Bad Manners,
Flash Fearless,
Alton Ellis,
Public Enemy,
Max Romeo,
KRS-One,
Bobby Byrd,
F. McDonald,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.