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 Solomon Islands and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Beijing.
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 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 Public Enemy to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dark Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gang Starr,
Slick Rick,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Leaves,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Brand Nubian,
Aswad,
Metal Thangz,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
X-Ray Spex,
Rosa Yemen,
Unrelated Segments,
Grey Daturas,
The Knickerbockers,
Soft Machine,
The American Breed,
Echospace,
The Residents,
The Monks,
Mad Mike,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Kerrie Biddell,
Josef K,
Crooked Eye,
Tropical Tobacco,
Severed Heads,
The Buckinghams,
Janne Schatter,
Gil Scott Heron,
Chris Corsano,
Goldenarms,
China Crisis,
Deadbeat,
Wasted Youth,
One Last Wish,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Young Rascals,
Sun Ra,
Blancmange,
Letta Mbulu,
The Gun Club,
Avey Tare,
Deepchord,
Roxy Music,
Minutemen,
Youth Brigade,
Pet Shop Boys,
Theoretical Girls,
Whodini,
Funky Four + One,
Absolute Body Control,
Faust,
Jesper Dahlback,
Liliput,
Pierre Henry,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Yaz,
Newcleus,
Au Pairs,
Pylon,
Kas Product,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.