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 Dominican Republic and from Manila.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Salvador.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Echospace to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 K-Klass. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Roy Ayers,
Bootsy Collins,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ponytail,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Thee Headcoats,
Sight & Sound,
The Durutti Column,
Janne Schatter,
Pole,
Vainqueur,
Barrington Levy,
T.S.O.L.,
Jerry's Kids,
Fat Boys,
One Last Wish,
Sixth Finger,
Moby Grape,
Technova,
World's Most,
Basic Channel,
The Vogues,
KRS-One,
Skaos,
Harmonia,
The Five Americans,
Metal Thangz,
David Bowie,
Pierre Henry,
Tears for Fears,
U.S. Maple,
Drexciya,
Dave Gahan,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Animal Collective,
Rosa Yemen,
Siglo XX,
Talk Talk,
Nils Olav,
Gil Scott Heron,
Circle Jerks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Chris Corsano,
Desert Stars,
The Happenings,
Banda Bassotti,
Donald Byrd,
Oneida,
the Fania All-Stars,
Unwound,
Connie Case,
Echospace,
Bizarre Inc.,
Scratch Acid,
PIL,
Television,
Eurythmics,
Marc Almond,
The Slits,
Glambeats Corp.,
Marmalade,
Gang Green,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.