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 Indonesia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and London.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Roy Ayers to the funk 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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
Ken Boothe,
Kayak,
These Immortal Souls,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Whodini,
Smog,
Faust,
The Smoke,
the Normal,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Fugs,
Lyres,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sam Rivers,
Blossom Toes,
The Red Krayola,
Icehouse,
Marmalade,
Bobby Byrd,
Saccharine Trust,
Porter Ricks,
DNA,
The Leaves,
Alison Limerick,
Skriet,
Bizarre Inc.,
Eddi Front,
Silicon Teens,
Model 500,
Junior Murvin,
U.S. Maple,
Das Ding,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bronski Beat,
the Bar-Kays,
48th St. Collective,
The Grass Roots,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Star Department,
the Slits,
Joey Negro,
The Vogues,
Yusef Lateef,
D'Angelo,
Gabor Szabo,
The Angels of Light,
Y Pants,
Goldenarms,
Sister Nancy,
Sparks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gichy Dan,
Lalo Schifrin,
Robert Görl,
Dead Boys,
The Saints,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Joensuu 1685,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Henry Cow,
PIL,
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.