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 Jordan and from Mumbai.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Barry Ungar to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Scratch Acid,
Faraquet,
Public Enemy,
the Slits,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Electric Prunes,
Hoover,
Technova,
the Soft Cell,
Los Fastidios,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cecil Taylor,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Soft Machine,
Negative Approach,
Q and Not U,
MDC,
Piero Umiliani,
X-101,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Boogie Down Productions,
Easy Going,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Misunderstood,
Au Pairs,
Silicon Teens,
Black Flag,
Eve St. Jones,
Terry Callier,
Erasure,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sight & Sound,
Minor Threat,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Scion,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Blackbyrds,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Eurythmics,
Fugazi,
The Gun Club,
The J.B.'s,
Roy Ayers,
Dead Boys,
The Beau Brummels,
Fluxion,
Pharoah Sanders,
Joy Division,
Camberwell Now,
Electric Prunes,
Crash Course in Science,
Neil Young,
Japan,
The Angels of Light,
Heaven 17,
Brand Nubian,
Tropical Tobacco,
Siglo XX,
Grey Daturas,
Theoretical Girls,
Hardrive,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.