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 Mongolia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Wings to the rap 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
John Holt,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Slits,
D'Angelo,
Crime,
Godley & Creme,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Electric Prunes,
The Count Five,
Ken Boothe,
Don Cherry,
Depeche Mode,
The Last Poets,
T. Rex,
Average White Band,
Jeff Mills,
Blake Baxter,
Frankie Knuckles,
Visage,
Lou Reed,
The Selecter,
Suicide,
The Slits,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Buzzcocks,
The Sonics,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Skarface,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Underground Resistance,
Sister Nancy,
John Lydon,
Marine Girls,
Cameo,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
KRS-One,
the Sonics,
Heaven 17,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bang On A Can,
Lalo Schifrin,
Davy DMX,
Amazonics,
Youth Brigade,
Fugazi,
Peter & Gordon,
Donny Hathaway,
Yazoo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rapeman,
Harry Pussy,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Star Department,
Scion,
Lucky Dragons,
Josef K,
June of 44,
Pere Ubu,
Lower 48,
Carl Craig,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.