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 Russia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Marmalade to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Litter. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lebanon Hanover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Joyce Sims,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
the Sonics,
The United States of America,
Minutemen,
Neil Young,
Porter Ricks,
Smog,
Buzzcocks,
Zero Boys,
Camberwell Now,
Barrington Levy,
The Standells,
Thee Headcoats,
Soul II Soul,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
This Heat,
Whodini,
Roxette,
Stereo Dub,
the Normal,
Marshall Jefferson,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pulsallama,
Funkadelic,
The Fugs,
Andrew Hill,
The Skatalites,
Depeche Mode,
The Martian,
Bluetip,
The Last Poets,
Eden Ahbez,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ultimate Spinach,
Stetsasonic,
Quadrant,
The Leaves,
Duran Duran,
The Remains,
These Immortal Souls,
Inner City,
Faraquet,
Mark Hollis,
The Kinks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ultravox,
Flamin' Groovies,
June Days,
James White and The Blacks,
The Walker Brothers,
The Blues Magoos,
The Motions,
LL Cool J,
The Move,
Easy Going,
Flash Fearless,
Kaleidoscope,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.