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 Ivory Coast 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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Wally Richardson to the punk 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 Deepchord. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Grass Roots,
Gang of Four,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Oblivians,
The Moody Blues,
cv313,
Yusef Lateef,
The Last Poets,
Motorama,
Tim Buckley,
U.S. Maple,
The Gladiators,
Flipper,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Chrome,
10cc,
The Dave Clark Five,
June of 44,
Nik Kershaw,
Negative Approach,
Radiopuhelimet,
Drive Like Jehu,
Half Japanese,
Funkadelic,
Lalann,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Skatalites,
Urselle,
Essential Logic,
Crooked Eye,
Jacques Brel,
Tomorrow,
Black Bananas,
Pere Ubu,
Ten City,
Delon & Dalcan,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cymande,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nirvana,
The Gun Club,
the Bar-Kays,
Blake Baxter,
Prince Buster,
Eden Ahbez,
Warren Ellis,
Aural Exciters,
Erasure,
Dark Day,
Man Eating Sloth,
Terry Callier,
Pantytec,
Neu!,
The Smiths,
Pagans,
Desert Stars,
Derrick May,
The Trojans,
The Barracudas,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Monochrome Set,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.