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 Yemen and from Stockholm.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Severed Heads to the grunge 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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skaos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
DJ Sneak,
The Trojans,
Country Teasers,
Yusef Lateef,
Fatback Band,
Robert Wyatt,
The Young Rascals,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Martian,
Schoolly D,
Fugazi,
Anakelly,
The Saints,
Inner City,
Man Eating Sloth,
T. Rex,
Aloha Tigers,
Los Fastidios,
Todd Terry,
Infiniti,
Girls At Our Best!,
Hasil Adkins,
Ken Boothe,
Mark Hollis,
Public Enemy,
Sight & Sound,
David Axelrod,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sun City Girls,
Heaven 17,
Jesper Dahlback,
the Soft Cell,
Morten Harket,
Talk Talk,
Agent Orange,
Mission of Burma,
10cc,
Easy Going,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Make Up,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bill Near,
Shuggie Otis,
Mandrill,
Jeff Mills,
Black Sheep,
Nirvana,
Public Image Ltd.,
Clear Light,
Magma,
Echospace,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tomorrow,
Jacques Brel,
Kaleidoscope,
China Crisis,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme.
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.