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 Iran and from Madrid.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Max Romeo to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ralphi Rosario,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Harry Pussy,
Minor Threat,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Maleditus Sound,
Altered Images,
Godley & Creme,
Donald Byrd,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pere Ubu,
Grauzone,
Jimmy McGriff,
Theoretical Girls,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Fortunes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gregory Isaacs,
Make Up,
Jerry's Kids,
Lyres,
Crime,
Blossom Toes,
Simply Red,
Dark Day,
The Modern Lovers,
The Fugs,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sam Rivers,
Ohio Players,
Nils Olav,
Gastr Del Sol,
Los Fastidios,
The Sonics,
Adolescents,
Magma,
Juan Atkins,
Angry Samoans,
The Associates,
Banda Bassotti,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pharoah Sanders,
Todd Terry,
Tomorrow,
Faraquet,
Ten City,
Newcleus,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Monks,
JFA,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sly & The Family Stone,
B.T. Express,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Eddi Front,
the Human League,
The Durutti Column,
the Soft Cell,
Minnie Riperton,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.