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 Lagos.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Gong to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Saints. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Sneak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bronski Beat,
Siglo XX,
Connie Case,
Sarah Menescal,
Warsaw,
Pantaleimon,
The Cramps,
Scion,
Reuben Wilson,
Q and Not U,
Goldenarms,
Nick Fraelich,
Janne Schatter,
The Divine Comedy,
Simply Red,
Bill Near,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Star Department,
Funkadelic,
Infiniti,
Youth Brigade,
Max Romeo,
Blake Baxter,
Morten Harket,
Eric B and Rakim,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Harry Pussy,
KRS-One,
The Angels of Light,
The Fortunes,
Al Stewart,
The Gun Club,
The Moody Blues,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Mummies,
Maurizio,
The Stooges,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eve St. Jones,
Delta 5,
Ituana,
John Coltrane,
Ponytail,
Spoonie Gee,
Organ,
Ken Boothe,
One Last Wish,
The Zeros,
Tom Boy,
Drexciya,
Archie Shepp,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Searchers,
Slick Rick,
Groovy Waters,
Matthew Bourne,
Anthony Braxton,
The American Breed,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Theoretical Girls,
Gang Green,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.