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 Brunei and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 David Bowie 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 Gang Gang Dance to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lower 48. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Schoolly D record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Charles Mingus,
Chris Corsano,
Robert Görl,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Y Pants,
The Saints,
John Lydon,
Jeff Mills,
Lakeside,
John Cale,
Jesper Dahlback,
Quantec,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Scientists,
Half Japanese,
Japan,
Pere Ubu,
Schoolly D,
Ituana,
Fat Boys,
Gerry Rafferty,
Spoonie Gee,
Eric Dolphy,
Brand Nubian,
The Busters,
Black Flag,
X-102,
Isaac Hayes,
Oblivians,
The J.B.'s,
Hashim,
Andrew Hill,
Eden Ahbez,
Fugazi,
Joy Division,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pantytec,
Aloha Tigers,
EPMD,
Brick,
Suburban Knight,
Massinfluence,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Flesh Eaters,
Monks,
The Seeds,
Frankie Knuckles,
Franke,
Vainqueur,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Soulsonic Force,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Wasted Youth,
Sixth Finger,
Dead Boys,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nick Fraelich,
Minnie Riperton,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.