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 Zambia and from Copenhagen.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Holger Czukay 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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Soulsonic Force. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Ossler,
Harry Pussy,
Albert Ayler,
Bobby Byrd,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Alphaville,
David McCallum,
Tears for Fears,
The Slackers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Reagan Youth,
Bauhaus,
Minor Threat,
Khruangbin,
Barclay James Harvest,
Mad Mike,
Metal Thangz,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fugazi,
Desert Stars,
Make Up,
the Fania All-Stars,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Cramps,
Sexual Harrassment,
Panda Bear,
Jawbox,
Ultra Naté,
John Foxx,
Hashim,
Spandau Ballet,
Sonny Sharrock,
Terrestrial Tones,
Black Pus,
The Stooges,
Mars,
Isaac Hayes,
Altered Images,
Wally Richardson,
Hardrive,
Amon Düül II,
Thee Headcoats,
Reuben Wilson,
the Sonics,
The Music Machine,
Andrew Hill,
Glenn Branca,
Ituana,
Funky Four + One,
DJ Sneak,
Prince Buster,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Names,
Bill Near,
Gastr Del Sol,
MC5,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Schoolly D,
The Slits,
Urselle,
Max Romeo,
Underground Resistance,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.