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 Cuba and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Men They Couldn't Hang to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Manfred Mann's Earth Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
The Fugs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Urselle,
The Dead C,
Oneida,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Television Personalities,
Eve St. Jones,
Gregory Isaacs,
Nick Fraelich,
The American Breed,
Con Funk Shun,
Saccharine Trust,
Fort Wilson Riot,
10cc,
Davy DMX,
Man Eating Sloth,
Black Sheep,
MDC,
T. Rex,
Soulsonic Force,
John Foxx,
Audionom,
Bluetip,
Donald Byrd,
Los Fastidios,
Terry Callier,
Kerri Chandler,
Deakin,
Ralphi Rosario,
Y Pants,
Ituana,
Monolake,
Brick,
Bootsy Collins,
The Human League,
Danielle Patucci,
The Modern Lovers,
China Crisis,
Hot Snakes,
Soft Cell,
The Real Kids,
Harry Pussy,
The Pop Group,
Scrapy,
Todd Terry,
Soft Machine,
The Dirtbombs,
Royal Trux,
Delon & Dalcan,
Black Flag,
the Soft Cell,
Q and Not U,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Angels of Light,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ten City,
The Smiths,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
EPMD,
Eden Ahbez,
Half Japanese,
Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product.
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.