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 Nicaragua and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ultravox,
Drexciya,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
John Coltrane,
The Pop Group,
Ossler,
The Residents,
World's Most,
The Gories,
Con Funk Shun,
F. McDonald,
The Seeds,
David Bowie,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Star Department,
Harpers Bizarre,
Scion,
Circle Jerks,
Lightning Bolt,
Traffic Nightmare,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Names,
Skaos,
David Axelrod,
Rakim,
Negative Approach,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Toasters,
A Certain Ratio,
Kas Product,
Bluetip,
The Motions,
The Beau Brummels,
New Age Steppers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Blancmange,
Model 500,
Flipper,
Unrelated Segments,
Freddie Wadling,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eve St. Jones,
The Trojans,
the Association,
Lyres,
The Walker Brothers,
Wally Richardson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Barbara Tucker,
JFA,
The Dirtbombs,
Anakelly,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Section 25,
Joey Negro,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lindisfarne,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.