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 Liberia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 Madrid and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 Sandy B to the punk 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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Shadows of Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 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?
JFA,
Subhumans,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Rakim,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jimmy McGriff,
DNA,
Tom Boy,
Drive Like Jehu,
Moby Grape,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Barracudas,
The Offenders,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gang Gang Dance,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lalann,
Junior Murvin,
the Germs,
Warren Ellis,
Khruangbin,
The Real Kids,
Lou Christie,
The Blackbyrds,
Aswad,
Frankie Knuckles,
Mark Hollis,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
U.S. Maple,
Joey Negro,
The Gun Club,
Parry Music,
Index,
Scott Walker,
Wally Richardson,
MC5,
Janne Schatter,
Fugazi,
Tubeway Army,
Country Teasers,
Scion,
Barclay James Harvest,
Niagra,
Pharoah Sanders,
Suburban Knight,
ABBA,
Eddi Front,
Moebius,
Oblivians,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Panda Bear,
Patti Smith,
Ultimate Spinach,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Kinks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
New Age Steppers,
Gang Green,
Crash Course in Science,
The Trojans,
Bang On A Can,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.