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 Seychelles and from Calgary.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tokyo.
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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Crispian St. Peters to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ice-T,
Accadde A,
Wings,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Raincoats,
The Zeros,
Blancmange,
Sugar Minott,
Little Man,
Peter and Kerry,
Todd Terry,
Con Funk Shun,
Moss Icon,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Fall,
The Divine Comedy,
Skriet,
Boz Scaggs,
Newcleus,
Ponytail,
Ten City,
John Foxx,
Talk Talk,
Simply Red,
Piero Umiliani,
Ultimate Spinach,
Radio Birdman,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Judy Mowatt,
Bobby Sherman,
Cymande,
Excepter,
Flamin' Groovies,
Harmonia,
Pussy Galore,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Names,
Vainqueur,
Prince Buster,
The American Breed,
The Electric Prunes,
Franke,
Goldenarms,
CMW,
Sarah Menescal,
Main Source,
The Monochrome Set,
Bill Near,
Man Eating Sloth,
Radiohead,
James White and The Blacks,
The Skatalites,
Bob Dylan,
Agitation Free,
the Human League,
Wasted Youth,
Porter Ricks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.