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 Venezuela and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 The Last Poets to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
Au Pairs,
Letta Mbulu,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Red Krayola,
Lee Hazlewood,
Cymande,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Dennis Brown,
Harpers Bizarre,
Boz Scaggs,
Robert Hood,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Prince Buster,
Deadbeat,
Warsaw,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Throbbing Gristle,
Procol Harum,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Roy Ayers,
Graham Central Station,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bob Dylan,
Donny Hathaway,
Amon Düül,
The Mojo Men,
Judy Mowatt,
Niagra,
Buzzcocks,
Angry Samoans,
Wasted Youth,
Parry Music,
Radio Birdman,
Delta 5,
Rufus Thomas,
World's Most,
The Detroit Cobras,
Aural Exciters,
Suicide,
Mandrill,
The Beau Brummels,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Offenders,
Ludus,
Zero Boys,
Joe Finger,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Swans,
MDC,
Faraquet,
Unrelated Segments,
Morten Harket,
The Cowsills,
Blancmange,
Johnny Osbourne,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Tears for Fears,
The Modern Lovers,
Soulsonic Force,
Crash Course in Science,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.