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 Uruguay and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Donald Fagen 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 Nils Olav to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
Hardrive,
Vainqueur,
Shoche,
David Bowie,
Brick,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sight & Sound,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
FM Einheit,
Mission of Burma,
Funky Four + One,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ultravox,
Gastr Del Sol,
Scratch Acid,
New York Dolls,
Radiohead,
The Electric Prunes,
World's Most,
Yusef Lateef,
Cal Tjader,
Swell Maps,
The Walker Brothers,
Cymande,
Chris & Cosey,
Popol Vuh,
Michelle Simonal,
The Move,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Stiv Bators,
Letta Mbulu,
Alton Ellis,
Au Pairs,
Outsiders,
John Coltrane,
Pole,
Icehouse,
Lebanon Hanover,
Joe Smooth,
Eddi Front,
Brothers Johnson,
Saccharine Trust,
Cheater Slicks,
Make Up,
UT,
T. Rex,
Angry Samoans,
Freddie Wadling,
Siglo XX,
Man Parrish,
Pagans,
The Vogues,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fear,
The Saints,
Lucky Dragons,
Sandy B,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.