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 New Zealand and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 This Heat to the funk 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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
H. Thieme,
the Slits,
Audionom,
Radiohead,
Andrew Hill,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Kerri Chandler,
Janne Schatter,
Bizarre Inc.,
Con Funk Shun,
The Doobie Brothers,
Judy Mowatt,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Panda Bear,
The Remains,
Crash Course in Science,
Godley & Creme,
Arab on Radar,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Monolake,
Sugar Minott,
Sonny Sharrock,
Oneida,
Eyeless In Gaza,
D'Angelo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Porter Ricks,
Albert Ayler,
The Stooges,
Slave,
Gastr Del Sol,
Deakin,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Techniques,
Amon Düül,
F. McDonald,
Ornette Coleman,
Clear Light,
Sun Ra,
The Litter,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bill Wells,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Matthew Halsall,
Duran Duran,
Mr. Review,
The Zeros,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
James White and The Blacks,
Eddi Front,
Isaac Hayes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Swans,
Lou Christie,
Intrusion,
Dual Sessions,
The Fire Engines,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.