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 Madagascar and from Sao Paulo.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Eric B and Rakim to the grunge 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 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?
JFA,
the Swans,
Crooked Eye,
Leonard Cohen,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lucky Dragons,
B.T. Express,
Moby Grape,
KRS-One,
U.S. Maple,
Eric B and Rakim,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Altered Images,
Chris & Cosey,
Soulsonic Force,
Shoche,
Ohio Players,
Spandau Ballet,
Andrew Hill,
Boogie Down Productions,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Germs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Hardrive,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rufus Thomas,
Amon Düül,
Henry Cow,
Bronski Beat,
The Angels of Light,
Joe Finger,
Todd Rundgren,
the Bar-Kays,
Moebius,
The New Christs,
Wire,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Minutemen,
Neu!,
The J.B.'s,
Masters at Work,
Boredoms,
Bauhaus,
Deadbeat,
Gong,
The Fortunes,
Minnie Riperton,
Thompson Twins,
The Fugs,
Dennis Brown,
Excepter,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Don Cherry,
Main Source,
Marine Girls,
The Fuzztones,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Raincoats,
F. McDonald,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.