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 Ghana and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 chamberlin 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 Thee Headcoats to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Stiv Bators,
Young Marble Giants,
The Angels of Light,
Josef K,
The Move,
David McCallum,
Barclay James Harvest,
The New Christs,
World's Most,
Rakim,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Make Up,
Leonard Cohen,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Deepchord,
Hashim,
Aural Exciters,
Black Pus,
Bronski Beat,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lalann,
Maurizio,
Jeff Mills,
Minutemen,
Ice-T,
Visage,
John Lydon,
Crispian St. Peters,
Saccharine Trust,
Henry Cow,
La Düsseldorf,
U.S. Maple,
Ralphi Rosario,
The United States of America,
Swans,
The Tremeloes,
Crash Course in Science,
Marine Girls,
Bobby Hutcherson,
L. Decosne,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Youth Brigade,
The Remains,
Bill Wells,
One Last Wish,
Cal Tjader,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Hardrive,
Dawn Penn,
Pharoah Sanders,
Funkadelic,
Animal Collective,
Roger Hodgson,
Bobby Womack,
Zapp,
Gabor Szabo,
Sam Rivers,
The Star Department,
Negative Approach,
Lungfish,
48th St. Collective,
Graham Central Station,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.