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 Serbia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 clarinet 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 The Red Krayola to the techno 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Letta Mbulu,
Sugar Minott,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Cowsills,
The Last Poets,
Steve Hackett,
Frankie Knuckles,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Crooked Eye,
Television Personalities,
Donny Hathaway,
Tom Boy,
Toni Rubio,
the Germs,
The Knickerbockers,
Amon Düül,
Ponytail,
Iggy Pop,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
James White and The Blacks,
Massinfluence,
Tubeway Army,
Danielle Patucci,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fluxion,
Lucky Dragons,
Talk Talk,
Gang Starr,
The Music Machine,
Banda Bassotti,
Grauzone,
Derrick May,
10cc,
Ten City,
The New Christs,
Soulsonic Force,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
B.T. Express,
Von Mondo,
Con Funk Shun,
The Raincoats,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lalo Schifrin,
Malaria!,
Thee Headcoats,
Arab on Radar,
The Residents,
Spoonie Gee,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mad Mike,
Negative Approach,
Unrelated Segments,
The Cure,
Mission of Burma,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Monks,
David McCallum,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.