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 Lithuania and from Philadelphia.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 808 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 FM Einheit to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Sexual Harrassment,
EPMD,
Bobby Womack,
Patti Smith,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jerry's Kids,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Crooked Eye,
The Monks,
Grauzone,
Joe Smooth,
Camouflage,
Black Flag,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Vogues,
The Dirtbombs,
UT,
Amazonics,
Pere Ubu,
Bill Near,
Stereo Dub,
Wolf Eyes,
Neil Young,
John Cale,
These Immortal Souls,
Marine Girls,
The Knickerbockers,
Quadrant,
Con Funk Shun,
A Certain Ratio,
Zapp,
The Count Five,
The Gap Band,
Fatback Band,
June of 44,
Public Enemy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jawbox,
Kaleidoscope,
Jimmy McGriff,
Livin' Joy,
Sex Pistols,
The Divine Comedy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
LL Cool J,
Sandy B,
Hardrive,
Leonard Cohen,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Metal Thangz,
Yazoo,
Todd Rundgren,
Deakin,
The Smoke,
James White and The Blacks,
Alton Ellis,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions.
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.