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 Iraq and from Seoul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 organ 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 Jeff Lynne to the electroclash 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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Rakim,
Liliput,
Sam Rivers,
Urselle,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Gichy Dan,
The Gun Club,
UT,
Eric Dolphy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rotary Connection,
Gang Green,
Procol Harum,
Visage,
Chrome,
K-Klass,
MC5,
David McCallum,
Basic Channel,
Smog,
Throbbing Gristle,
Underground Resistance,
The Divine Comedy,
Archie Shepp,
The Slackers,
Kas Product,
Fluxion,
Terrestrial Tones,
Grandmaster Flash,
MDC,
Agent Orange,
Byron Stingily,
cv313,
Bobby Byrd,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kerri Chandler,
The Searchers,
Judy Mowatt,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tomorrow,
Theoretical Girls,
Youth Brigade,
The Cowsills,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Letta Mbulu,
KRS-One,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bauhaus,
Von Mondo,
Khruangbin,
Masters at Work,
Ossler,
Ice-T,
The Litter,
Wally Richardson,
Mark Hollis,
June of 44,
Symarip,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.