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 Maldives and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Byron Stingily to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Pharoah Sanders,
Visage,
Lucky Dragons,
The Five Americans,
Althea and Donna,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
48th St. Collective,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Fuzztones,
Inner City,
Qualms,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Moody Blues,
Lee Hazlewood,
Cal Tjader,
Gil Scott Heron,
Radio Birdman,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Associates,
DJ Style,
Angry Samoans,
MDC,
Section 25,
Los Fastidios,
Depeche Mode,
Desert Stars,
Bauhaus,
The Golliwogs,
Shoche,
Tommy Roe,
Pagans,
Faraquet,
The Mummies,
Black Bananas,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lungfish,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Fire Engines,
The Young Rascals,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Thompson Twins,
Magma,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ludus,
Television,
Danielle Patucci,
Marine Girls,
The Fugs,
The Monks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Surgeon,
The Smiths,
Funky Four + One,
Kayak,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Grey Daturas,
Jawbox,
DNA,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.