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 Iran and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 snare 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 Glenn Branca to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
Ten City,
Max Romeo,
Grauzone,
Andrew Hill,
Archie Shepp,
Angry Samoans,
Country Teasers,
D'Angelo,
Anthony Braxton,
Franke,
Malaria!,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Vogues,
Eden Ahbez,
EPMD,
The Blues Magoos,
Gastr Del Sol,
Man Parrish,
Rufus Thomas,
Saccharine Trust,
Marc Almond,
PIL,
Blake Baxter,
Mantronix,
KRS-One,
The Skatalites,
Y Pants,
Sixth Finger,
Wally Richardson,
Ohio Players,
Donald Byrd,
Boz Scaggs,
Robert Görl,
Derrick May,
Piero Umiliani,
X-101,
Stockholm Monsters,
Essential Logic,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Main Source,
Joe Smooth,
Quadrant,
The Sonics,
Masters at Work,
Schoolly D,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Aaron Thompson,
T. Rex,
Scrapy,
Joy Division,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fugazi,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rosa Yemen,
New Age Steppers,
the Germs,
Blossom Toes,
Marcia Griffiths,
Excepter,
DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace.
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.