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 Papua New Guinea and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Rakim to the crunk 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
48th St. Collective,
Wally Richardson,
The Gladiators,
Second Layer,
Model 500,
Qualms,
Eden Ahbez,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Modern Lovers,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Cal Tjader,
The Vogues,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Michelle Simonal,
Q65,
Sight & Sound,
Bob Dylan,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lindisfarne,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Human League,
Mo-Dettes,
The Fall,
Althea and Donna,
Make Up,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nico,
Sister Nancy,
the Human League,
Yaz,
Kerrie Biddell,
The J.B.'s,
Joy Division,
Soft Machine,
Yusef Lateef,
Aural Exciters,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Warren Ellis,
Sexual Harrassment,
Organ,
Brothers Johnson,
The Last Poets,
Sonic Youth,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Smiths,
The Birthday Party,
Bill Wells,
Derrick Morgan,
Pere Ubu,
Minor Threat,
The Detroit Cobras,
Brick,
Scientists,
Livin' Joy,
Hasil Adkins,
The Beau Brummels,
Lalo Schifrin,
World's Most,
Stetsasonic,
Altered Images,
Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc..
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.