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 Papua New Guinea 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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron 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 the Fania All-Stars to the dance 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dark Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer 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 Detroit Cobras,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sight & Sound,
Ken Boothe,
Unwound,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Offenders,
The Sonics,
Basic Channel,
Sun City Girls,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Trojans,
The Gap Band,
The Martian,
Wings,
The Gladiators,
the Swans,
Lakeside,
Barclay James Harvest,
Whodini,
Letta Mbulu,
Harpers Bizarre,
Anthony Braxton,
the Slits,
Royal Trux,
the Germs,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kerrie Biddell,
Boz Scaggs,
Simply Red,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Robert Hood,
Supertramp,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Erasure,
Ponytail,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ossler,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Brothers Johnson,
Derrick May,
Barry Ungar,
Boredoms,
Porter Ricks,
Skriet,
Traffic Nightmare,
Charles Mingus,
Harry Pussy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Loose Ends,
The Blues Magoos,
Terrestrial Tones,
Al Stewart,
Model 500,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tomorrow,
Spandau Ballet,
Jandek,
Aswad,
Franke,
Chrome,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.