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 Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tokyo.
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 marimba 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 Chris & Cosey to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Carl Craig,
Steve Hackett,
Bad Manners,
Porter Ricks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Stereo Dub,
Fad Gadget,
Banda Bassotti,
Radio Birdman,
DJ Style,
The Shadows of Knight,
Schoolly D,
Derrick May,
Shoche,
Hasil Adkins,
Anakelly,
Donny Hathaway,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kaleidoscope,
Barrington Levy,
The Music Machine,
Circle Jerks,
Toni Rubio,
Outsiders,
Iggy Pop,
Mr. Review,
John Holt,
Sparks,
Yusef Lateef,
ABC,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Nirvana,
Pole,
T.S.O.L.,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Audionom,
Royal Trux,
Metal Thangz,
DNA,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pere Ubu,
Thompson Twins,
Roxy Music,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pussy Galore,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Dead C,
Joe Smooth,
Terry Callier,
John Foxx,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wally Richardson,
Pet Shop Boys,
Flamin' Groovies,
Crime,
Amon Düül II,
Tim Buckley,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sällskapet,
Gang of Four,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.