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 Kenya and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Columbus.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the güiro 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 Tom Boy to the funk 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 The Wake. All the underground hits.
All The Move tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Graham Central Station,
Eve St. Jones,
Brand Nubian,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Peter and Kerry,
Eli Mardock,
Jacob Miller,
Neil Young,
Supertramp,
Fatback Band,
Lower 48,
Mr. Review,
Dead Boys,
The Durutti Column,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Todd Rundgren,
Radiopuhelimet,
Swans,
Drexciya,
Reagan Youth,
Cybotron,
Skriet,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Gang Gang Dance,
Anakelly,
The Divine Comedy,
Ornette Coleman,
The Dirtbombs,
Thompson Twins,
Hardrive,
Funky Four + One,
Niagra,
DJ Style,
Porter Ricks,
DJ Sneak,
The J.B.'s,
Minutemen,
Vainqueur,
New Age Steppers,
Organ,
Mission of Burma,
Ronan,
Wolf Eyes,
Yazoo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rosa Yemen,
The Birthday Party,
Popol Vuh,
James White and The Blacks,
L. Decosne,
Radio Birdman,
Quando Quango,
Soulsonic Force,
the Germs,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.