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 Denmark and from Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Nik Kershaw to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Second Layer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
The Associates,
The Fortunes,
the Fania All-Stars,
Zero Boys,
Michelle Simonal,
Banda Bassotti,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Franke,
Glenn Branca,
The Human League,
Andrew Hill,
Scratch Acid,
Fad Gadget,
The Busters,
The Red Krayola,
Toni Rubio,
the Swans,
Accadde A,
The Move,
Groovy Waters,
Connie Case,
Joensuu 1685,
Nils Olav,
Ralphi Rosario,
Moss Icon,
Audionom,
The New Christs,
Robert Wyatt,
Judy Mowatt,
Grey Daturas,
Angry Samoans,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Skatalites,
Howard Jones,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Scan 7,
Bobby Womack,
L. Decosne,
Crispy Ambulance,
Alton Ellis,
X-Ray Spex,
The Index,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sight & Sound,
Little Man,
The Slits,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Victims,
Slave,
Boz Scaggs,
Malaria!,
Eric Copeland,
Q65,
Hashim,
These Immortal Souls,
Yazoo,
World's Most,
Warren Ellis,
The Real Kids,
John Holt,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.