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 United Kingdom and from Seoul.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 Lightning Bolt to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alton Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Faraquet,
The Martian,
Moss Icon,
Lakeside,
The Music Machine,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Fire Engines,
John Coltrane,
Motorama,
Erasure,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Donny Hathaway,
Lebanon Hanover,
Frankie Knuckles,
Simply Red,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Los Fastidios,
Ronnie Foster,
The Shadows of Knight,
Barrington Levy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Brand Nubian,
Sight & Sound,
Pere Ubu,
Icehouse,
World's Most,
The Wake,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gil Scott Heron,
John Foxx,
Amon Düül,
Dennis Brown,
Colin Newman,
Severed Heads,
The Dave Clark Five,
Boredoms,
Crash Course in Science,
The Sound,
Crispy Ambulance,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gong,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Moody Blues,
Pantaleimon,
Arthur Verocai,
The Walker Brothers,
Echospace,
Schoolly D,
Drexciya,
Connie Case,
Wally Richardson,
Thee Headcoats,
DJ Style,
Lindisfarne,
Sparks,
Slick Rick,
Gichy Dan,
Bad Manners,
Kool Moe Dee,
The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs.
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.