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 Micronesia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 rhodes 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 Todd Terry to the techno 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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zero Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Minor Threat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jacob Miller,
Josef K,
Mandrill,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Spandau Ballet,
U.S. Maple,
It's A Beautiful Day,
the Germs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Move,
Lungfish,
Kurtis Blow,
Circle Jerks,
Crooked Eye,
Drexciya,
X-102,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Dennis Brown,
Leonard Cohen,
Jeru the Damaja,
Steve Hackett,
Tropical Tobacco,
World's Most,
Simply Red,
Deadbeat,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Golliwogs,
Ten City,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Popol Vuh,
Sandy B,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tom Boy,
The Vogues,
Angry Samoans,
Bush Tetras,
Jimmy McGriff,
Archie Shepp,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Dead Boys,
Brothers Johnson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Isaac Hayes,
Symarip,
Matthew Bourne,
Shuggie Otis,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Fire Engines,
Marcia Griffiths,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Urselle,
The Toasters,
China Crisis,
Qualms,
Bang On A Can,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.