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 Colombia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 güiro 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All Erasure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MDC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Gang Starr,
Massinfluence,
T. Rex,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sister Nancy,
Harmonia,
Kerri Chandler,
The Stooges,
These Immortal Souls,
The Blackbyrds,
Ossler,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Neu!,
Tears for Fears,
Harry Pussy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Danielle Patucci,
Sam Rivers,
Index,
Lucky Dragons,
Man Parrish,
Gong,
The Slackers,
Scrapy,
Pylon,
The Fall,
The Index,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Porter Ricks,
Cecil Taylor,
Loose Ends,
The Doobie Brothers,
Royal Trux,
Ituana,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eve St. Jones,
The Fugs,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
the Bar-Kays,
Metal Thangz,
Arthur Verocai,
The American Breed,
Boredoms,
Sandy B,
Derrick Morgan,
Second Layer,
Ultra Naté,
David Axelrod,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Heaven 17,
the Fania All-Stars,
Camouflage,
The Offenders,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
F. McDonald,
Ornette Coleman,
John Coltrane,
Grey Daturas,
Unwound,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.