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 Grenada and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Easy Going to the grunge 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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks 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?
the Human League,
FM Einheit,
Thee Headcoats,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Don Cherry,
Accadde A,
Ronnie Foster,
Wally Richardson,
Donald Byrd,
Soft Cell,
Niagra,
The Toasters,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Porter Ricks,
Camouflage,
Kevin Saunderson,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Drive Like Jehu,
Intrusion,
Hardrive,
Outsiders,
Pharoah Sanders,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kool Moe Dee,
L. Decosne,
Piero Umiliani,
The Beau Brummels,
The Blackbyrds,
Quadrant,
DJ Style,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Yaz,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Slave,
Joey Negro,
The Invisible,
Drexciya,
The Remains,
Harpers Bizarre,
Cheater Slicks,
Slick Rick,
Glambeats Corp.,
Absolute Body Control,
John Foxx,
Faust,
Ten City,
Masters at Work,
Cameo,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Chrome,
New Age Steppers,
Alice Coltrane,
Junior Murvin,
Radio Birdman,
Sex Pistols,
Flipper,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Interpol,
Pierre Henry,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.