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 Egypt and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Hashim to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Rapeman,
Mission of Burma,
Ultravox,
the Germs,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Arab on Radar,
Todd Rundgren,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kerrie Biddell,
Dead Boys,
Shoche,
Al Stewart,
Circle Jerks,
The Divine Comedy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sandy B,
The Seeds,
Crime,
Von Mondo,
Chris & Cosey,
T. Rex,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Tom Boy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Eddi Front,
The Offenders,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The American Breed,
The Gladiators,
The Angels of Light,
Anthony Braxton,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Chris Corsano,
Monolake,
Curtis Mayfield,
Alice Coltrane,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Wasted Youth,
Sight & Sound,
Black Flag,
Alphaville,
Sister Nancy,
The Blues Magoos,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lindisfarne,
The Velvet Underground,
In Retrospect,
Juan Atkins,
Dorothy Ashby,
CMW,
Junior Murvin,
Gang Green,
Danielle Patucci,
The Sound,
The Slackers,
Unrelated Segments,
Qualms,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Barbara Tucker,
Terry Callier,
Jacques Brel,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.