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 Bahamas and from Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the snare 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 Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jawbox. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Traffic Nightmare,
Scion,
Banda Bassotti,
Shoche,
A Certain Ratio,
Livin' Joy,
June Days,
Radiopuhelimet,
New York Dolls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gichy Dan,
Aswad,
Piero Umiliani,
Gang Green,
Groovy Waters,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Carl Craig,
Robert Görl,
Barbara Tucker,
The Mojo Men,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Brand Nubian,
Zero Boys,
Black Moon,
Electric Prunes,
Barrington Levy,
Negative Approach,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Tres Demented,
The Associates,
MC5,
PIL,
Alice Coltrane,
Whodini,
Dennis Brown,
H. Thieme,
Average White Band,
Angry Samoans,
Masters at Work,
Wire,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Neil Young,
Lebanon Hanover,
Deakin,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Amon Düül II,
R.M.O.,
Mary Jane Girls,
Crispy Ambulance,
Visage,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Moby Grape,
Television Personalities,
kango's stein massive,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Stetsasonic,
Warsaw,
Peter & Gordon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Pop Group,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.