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 Tunisia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Severed Heads to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiohead record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shuggie Otis,
Whodini,
A Certain Ratio,
Black Bananas,
The Gories,
The Velvet Underground,
New York Dolls,
Barrington Levy,
The Beau Brummels,
Main Source,
Lyres,
Thompson Twins,
Chris Corsano,
Eric Copeland,
JFA,
The Grass Roots,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Aloha Tigers,
R.M.O.,
Gong,
Cameo,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Matthew Halsall,
Clear Light,
Make Up,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Arthur Verocai,
The Busters,
Skriet,
Rekid,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rapeman,
Yazoo,
The Sound,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Doobie Brothers,
Johnny Clarke,
Goldenarms,
Joyce Sims,
Anakelly,
John Coltrane,
Little Man,
Aaron Thompson,
Gang Starr,
Amazonics,
Scratch Acid,
Average White Band,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Roy Ayers,
Robert Hood,
the Normal,
The Index,
Radio Birdman,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Wings,
Bill Near,
Q65,
Mr. Review,
Eric Dolphy,
B.T. Express,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.