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 Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Black Pus to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
Unrelated Segments,
The Slits,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
OOIOO,
Yusef Lateef,
Duran Duran,
Jacques Brel,
Roger Hodgson,
The Trojans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marc Almond,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bill Wells,
The Moleskins,
Scan 7,
Sound Behaviour,
Sarah Menescal,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eli Mardock,
Scion,
Davy DMX,
the Bar-Kays,
The Smiths,
Henry Cow,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Evens,
Faust,
The Standells,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Radiohead,
Lalo Schifrin,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fugazi,
The Pretty Things,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Freddie Wadling,
A Certain Ratio,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Human League,
Aloha Tigers,
Sight & Sound,
One Last Wish,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Skaos,
Judy Mowatt,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sun City Girls,
The Remains,
Porter Ricks,
Whodini,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Black Bananas,
X-102,
The Cure,
Derrick Morgan,
Fela Kuti,
Nils Olav,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Sonics,
Bad Manners,
Lou Christie,
Stereo Dub,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk.
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.