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 Mozambique 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 B.T. Express to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Fad Gadget,
Rotary Connection,
Davy DMX,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Flipper,
Aswad,
Chris Corsano,
Minnie Riperton,
Joensuu 1685,
Rapeman,
The Sound,
The Young Rascals,
Drexciya,
Wasted Youth,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Underground Resistance,
Deakin,
The Durutti Column,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Happenings,
Minor Threat,
Y Pants,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ohio Players,
Johnny Clarke,
Ten City,
Robert Hood,
Dead Boys,
Amazonics,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Moody Blues,
Electric Prunes,
Pulsallama,
The Velvet Underground,
Sexual Harrassment,
Clear Light,
Rosa Yemen,
Lindisfarne,
Michelle Simonal,
The Fall,
The Gories,
John Holt,
Malaria!,
Magma,
Archie Shepp,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Judy Mowatt,
Crooked Eye,
Rekid,
Parry Music,
Bill Near,
Au Pairs,
Symarip,
Sex Pistols,
ABBA,
Funky Four + One,
Yellowson,
Fear,
Junior Murvin,
Flash Fearless,
The American Breed,
The Index,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.