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 Papua New Guinea and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Bootsy Collins to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Pantytec,
Camberwell Now,
K-Klass,
Masters at Work,
Quadrant,
Model 500,
Mission of Burma,
Lou Christie,
Dark Day,
Minnie Riperton,
Pere Ubu,
Ludus,
Kerri Chandler,
Blancmange,
Das Ding,
Susan Cadogan,
Royal Trux,
The Residents,
Wire,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Slackers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Eddi Front,
Moebius,
The Trojans,
Boogie Down Productions,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Index,
Fugazi,
Judy Mowatt,
Magazine,
The Gun Club,
DJ Style,
Marc Almond,
Gang Gang Dance,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jeff Mills,
Roxette,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Swell Maps,
Kurtis Blow,
The Five Americans,
The Electric Prunes,
Brothers Johnson,
Public Image Ltd.,
Cheater Slicks,
Ituana,
Curtis Mayfield,
Shuggie Otis,
China Crisis,
Scratch Acid,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sun City Girls,
Intrusion,
The Standells,
The Motions,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
June Days,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nik Kershaw,
The Saints,
The Victims,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.