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 Mauritania and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Hot Snakes to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Massinfluence. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
It's A Beautiful Day,
Tears for Fears,
The Knickerbockers,
The Grass Roots,
Oblivians,
Ohio Players,
Mo-Dettes,
Motorama,
The Dirtbombs,
F. McDonald,
Stetsasonic,
Pere Ubu,
Gichy Dan,
Funky Four + One,
Juan Atkins,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Techniques,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Black Sheep,
Dark Day,
Little Man,
the Swans,
The Cowsills,
Barry Ungar,
Jeff Mills,
Mr. Review,
The Human League,
Lakeside,
Rosa Yemen,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Residents,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Michelle Simonal,
Flamin' Groovies,
Wings,
The Names,
Hasil Adkins,
Byron Stingily,
Danielle Patucci,
Donny Hathaway,
The Last Poets,
Masters at Work,
Suburban Knight,
Harpers Bizarre,
Massinfluence,
OOIOO,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sonic Youth,
Malaria!,
The Flesh Eaters,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Electric Prunes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Smiths,
Glambeats Corp.,
Morten Harket,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Detroit Cobras,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.