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 Kyrgyzstan and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Y Pants to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ash Ra Tempel. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gong,
Todd Rundgren,
Fatback Band,
Derrick Morgan,
Ice-T,
One Last Wish,
Alison Limerick,
Blossom Toes,
Aural Exciters,
World's Most,
Franke,
Soft Cell,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Dirtbombs,
Sonny Sharrock,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kurtis Blow,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bush Tetras,
Cymande,
Alphaville,
Juan Atkins,
Chris & Cosey,
Pere Ubu,
Monks,
ABBA,
Slick Rick,
Sarah Menescal,
Vladislav Delay,
Moby Grape,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Last Poets,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Au Pairs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Yellowson,
The Electric Prunes,
Joy Division,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ronan,
Aswad,
Drive Like Jehu,
Joe Finger,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
L. Decosne,
Marshall Jefferson,
John Coltrane,
Section 25,
Grandmaster Flash,
EPMD,
The Music Machine,
Television Personalities,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
the Sonics,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gang of Four,
The American Breed,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.