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 Latvia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Robert Palmer 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 The Chocolate Watch Band to the disco 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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Jesus and Mary Chain record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rekid,
Black Moon,
F. McDonald,
Suicide,
Cymande,
Siglo XX,
Drexciya,
The Evens,
Niagra,
U.S. Maple,
Bauhaus,
The Techniques,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Toni Rubio,
Severed Heads,
Underground Resistance,
Anthony Braxton,
Faust,
Soul Sonic Force,
Slick Rick,
the Human League,
Colin Newman,
Robert Hood,
Lee Hazlewood,
Roger Hodgson,
Arab on Radar,
Rufus Thomas,
The Beau Brummels,
Johnny Clarke,
The Wake,
Surgeon,
Sex Pistols,
Scratch Acid,
The Toasters,
Motorama,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Alarm Clocks,
Second Layer,
Wasted Youth,
Nik Kershaw,
Sonic Youth,
Magma,
The Busters,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Cure,
Alphaville,
Sandy B,
Monks,
Theoretical Girls,
Kas Product,
Prince Buster,
Black Sheep,
Minutemen,
Soul II Soul,
Y Pants,
John Cale,
Nick Fraelich,
Byron Stingily,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.