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 Guyana and from Salvador.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 synthesizer 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 Whodini to the dance 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 DeepChord presents Echospace. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yusef Lateef,
Scion,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Saints,
Morten Harket,
The Motions,
Liliput,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gang Starr,
The Golliwogs,
Harmonia,
Mission of Burma,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lucky Dragons,
Thee Headcoats,
The Toasters,
The Selecter,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eric B and Rakim,
Public Image Ltd.,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Avey Tare,
Minutemen,
Gang Green,
Grey Daturas,
Sixth Finger,
Negative Approach,
The Star Department,
Bobby Womack,
The Leaves,
Pussy Galore,
The Searchers,
FM Einheit,
Thompson Twins,
K-Klass,
Reagan Youth,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mandrill,
Bluetip,
Motorama,
Lightning Bolt,
The Busters,
Eden Ahbez,
Terry Callier,
Excepter,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Patti Smith,
Desert Stars,
Rhythm & Sound,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
New York Dolls,
Masters at Work,
Nico,
Altered Images,
Flipper,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rakim,
Sandy B,
Television,
The Neon Judgement,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.