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 Mozambique and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Severed Heads to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Move. All the underground hits.
All Model 500 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gregory Isaacs,
Scion,
Connie Case,
Sarah Menescal,
ABC,
Tres Demented,
8 Eyed Spy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Jandek,
Donny Hathaway,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Gap Band,
Rapeman,
The Toasters,
Bobby Womack,
Moebius,
These Immortal Souls,
Whodini,
Bill Wells,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Cecil Taylor,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Misunderstood,
Pulsallama,
Severed Heads,
Junior Murvin,
Warsaw,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bobby Hutcherson,
June of 44,
kango's stein massive,
Youth Brigade,
David Bowie,
Silicon Teens,
Eric Dolphy,
John Cale,
The Litter,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Vladislav Delay,
Todd Terry,
U.S. Maple,
James White and The Blacks,
Tom Boy,
The Smoke,
Chrome,
Lebanon Hanover,
Infiniti,
Masters at Work,
Agent Orange,
Rod Modell,
Ultimate Spinach,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
K-Klass,
Althea and Donna,
Scratch Acid,
Intrusion,
Minor Threat,
Erasure,
The Saints,
Y Pants,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.