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 Paraguay and from Salvador.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Skatalites to the crunk 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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Delon & Dalcan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Junior Murvin,
Agent Orange,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Smiths,
Henry Cow,
Ossler,
The Beau Brummels,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
the Bar-Kays,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Eric Dolphy,
The Count Five,
Brothers Johnson,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Mandrill,
Lyres,
X-101,
Warsaw,
Fear,
Gang Green,
Radiohead,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Porter Ricks,
The Gladiators,
Surgeon,
Pantaleimon,
Derrick May,
The Smoke,
Hoover,
The Offenders,
Animal Collective,
Soft Machine,
Iggy Pop,
Au Pairs,
Cecil Taylor,
The Wake,
Yellowson,
Procol Harum,
Make Up,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Boredoms,
Ronnie Foster,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Busters,
Al Stewart,
the Normal,
Main Source,
The Five Americans,
Kurtis Blow,
Scion,
Susan Cadogan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Harry Pussy,
Pulsallama,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Reuben Wilson,
Silicon Teens,
Cheater Slicks,
Boz Scaggs,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.