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 Austria and from Hong Kong.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 Parry Music to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Jacques Brel,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eric B and Rakim,
Mad Mike,
Harry Pussy,
Mo-Dettes,
The Doors,
Joy Division,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ten City,
Zapp,
Althea and Donna,
Roxette,
Bill Near,
Morten Harket,
the Human League,
The Moody Blues,
Crime,
Judy Mowatt,
Stiv Bators,
Blossom Toes,
Ornette Coleman,
T.S.O.L.,
the Slits,
Don Cherry,
the Germs,
Pulsallama,
Warsaw,
The Selecter,
ABC,
Reagan Youth,
Sugar Minott,
The Cowsills,
Mars,
Jawbox,
Smog,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
H. Thieme,
Nas,
Matthew Halsall,
D'Angelo,
Peter & Gordon,
The Sonics,
48th St. Collective,
Lindisfarne,
Bobby Byrd,
Dennis Brown,
Eddi Front,
The Busters,
Roy Ayers,
The Moleskins,
Connie Case,
Vladislav Delay,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Wake,
Rekid,
Pere Ubu,
Darondo,
Johnny Clarke,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.