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 Tonga and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 Thompson Twins to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Urselle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum 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 Vogues,
Sex Pistols,
Bill Wells,
8 Eyed Spy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jesper Dahlback,
Avey Tare,
Roger Hodgson,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Buzzcocks,
Agent Orange,
Suicide,
New Age Steppers,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Doobie Brothers,
E-Dancer,
Surgeon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Maurizio,
Spandau Ballet,
Zero Boys,
Curtis Mayfield,
Godley & Creme,
A Certain Ratio,
T.S.O.L.,
Angry Samoans,
Al Stewart,
Deakin,
The Beau Brummels,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Rakim,
Yaz,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ornette Coleman,
The Invisible,
Sixth Finger,
Bad Manners,
The Black Dice,
Nils Olav,
Ohio Players,
Judy Mowatt,
Marine Girls,
Gang Starr,
Amazonics,
Second Layer,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Rufus Thomas,
Jacques Brel,
Q65,
These Immortal Souls,
Man Parrish,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eden Ahbez,
U.S. Maple,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Alphaville,
Jeff Mills,
Cluster,
Simply Red,
Qualms,
Warsaw,
The Durutti Column,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.