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 Algeria and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Man Eating Sloth to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
The J.B.'s,
Faust,
Grey Daturas,
Sonic Youth,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
cv313,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sam Rivers,
Funky Four + One,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Supertramp,
Audionom,
Au Pairs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Brick,
Suicide,
Fela Kuti,
Scratch Acid,
The Smiths,
H. Thieme,
Banda Bassotti,
The Fuzztones,
The Neon Judgement,
Severed Heads,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jerry's Kids,
Alton Ellis,
The Litter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Monolake,
Nik Kershaw,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sister Nancy,
Janne Schatter,
Suburban Knight,
Pierre Henry,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kaleidoscope,
Ohio Players,
Peter and Kerry,
the Slits,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
New Order,
Agent Orange,
The Monks,
Jawbox,
Cecil Taylor,
Con Funk Shun,
X-102,
Khruangbin,
the Normal,
Brothers Johnson,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Beasts of Bourbon,
K-Klass,
The New Christs,
OOIOO,
Reagan Youth,
Junior Murvin,
Rod Modell,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.