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 Colombia and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Tears for Fears to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
Cameo,
Neu!,
Moebius,
Laurel Aitken,
Second Layer,
Von Mondo,
The Smiths,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cymande,
X-Ray Spex,
Peter & Gordon,
Underground Resistance,
Slick Rick,
Hoover,
a-ha,
The Fuzztones,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Eve St. Jones,
Technova,
B.T. Express,
Brand Nubian,
Erykah Badu,
Tommy Roe,
Kayak,
The Count Five,
Todd Terry,
Whodini,
Barrington Levy,
The Tremeloes,
Tom Boy,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ohio Players,
John Lydon,
Procol Harum,
Smog,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Crash Course in Science,
Rekid,
Todd Rundgren,
Byron Stingily,
Althea and Donna,
Sex Pistols,
Talk Talk,
The Fugs,
The Knickerbockers,
Charles Mingus,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Groovy Waters,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Clear Light,
Heaven 17,
Vainqueur,
Saccharine Trust,
The Wake,
Eric B and Rakim,
Joy Division,
Gang Starr,
U.S. Maple,
Crooked Eye,
Eurythmics,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Outsiders,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.