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 Kyrgyzstan and from Portland.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Black Dice to the rap 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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yusef Lateef record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
H. Thieme,
David McCallum,
B.T. Express,
Bill Near,
Prince Buster,
Eve St. Jones,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Altered Images,
Peter & Gordon,
Sparks,
Eric Copeland,
Donny Hathaway,
One Last Wish,
Man Parrish,
Ultimate Spinach,
ABC,
The Gun Club,
R.M.O.,
Eric B and Rakim,
Livin' Joy,
Index,
The Star Department,
Rosa Yemen,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
China Crisis,
T.S.O.L.,
Connie Case,
The Saints,
Fad Gadget,
Mark Hollis,
The Stooges,
Whodini,
Nico,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scott Walker,
Newcleus,
The Seeds,
Essential Logic,
UT,
Supertramp,
Sexual Harrassment,
Magma,
Rakim,
Kerri Chandler,
Bobbi Humphrey,
T. Rex,
Barry Ungar,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Remains,
Judy Mowatt,
Desert Stars,
Harry Pussy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
E-Dancer,
Parry Music,
Boz Scaggs,
Outsiders,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.