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 Morocco and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Joy Division to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
The Misunderstood,
Main Source,
Gabor Szabo,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Thee Headcoats,
June of 44,
The Cramps,
The Barracudas,
Lee Hazlewood,
MC5,
Brick,
Anthony Braxton,
Quantec,
DNA,
Harmonia,
Public Enemy,
Cecil Taylor,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jeff Mills,
Severed Heads,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Young Marble Giants,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ohio Players,
Dual Sessions,
Faraquet,
The Shadows of Knight,
Joensuu 1685,
Joe Finger,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
AZ,
Newcleus,
Bang On A Can,
Man Parrish,
Agent Orange,
The Red Krayola,
Los Fastidios,
Wally Richardson,
Darondo,
The Selecter,
The Divine Comedy,
48th St. Collective,
Malaria!,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Martian,
Gastr Del Sol,
Altered Images,
Drive Like Jehu,
Shoche,
8 Eyed Spy,
Simply Red,
Deepchord,
The Last Poets,
H. Thieme,
The Velvet Underground,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pere Ubu,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.