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 El Salvador and from Glasgow.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bill Near to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
Interpol,
The Music Machine,
Main Source,
The Doors,
Roxy Music,
Pussy Galore,
The Dead C,
The Martian,
Alice Coltrane,
Livin' Joy,
The Gun Club,
Parry Music,
Sound Behaviour,
Das Ding,
Eric Copeland,
Tom Boy,
CMW,
Avey Tare,
Dead Boys,
Loose Ends,
Brick,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Flamin' Groovies,
Black Pus,
Warren Ellis,
The Fire Engines,
Masters at Work,
Crash Course in Science,
Whodini,
Arthur Verocai,
Thee Headcoats,
Man Parrish,
Average White Band,
Lou Reed,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sonny Sharrock,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Yaz,
Pere Ubu,
John Foxx,
The Vogues,
Maleditus Sound,
Toni Rubio,
Grey Daturas,
The Misunderstood,
JFA,
Mantronix,
Roy Ayers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Urselle,
Bootsy Collins,
Groovy Waters,
Intrusion,
DJ Sneak,
Mr. Review,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dennis Brown,
Barbara Tucker,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Iggy Pop,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Saints,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.