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 Turkey and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Agent Orange to the rap 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 The Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Fugazi,
The Slackers,
Black Pus,
The Names,
X-101,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Television,
Franke,
Cluster,
Massinfluence,
The Music Machine,
Joe Finger,
The Gories,
Icehouse,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bobby Womack,
Scion,
Clear Light,
Jawbox,
Sällskapet,
Bob Dylan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kerri Chandler,
The Litter,
The Zeros,
The Grass Roots,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Tremeloes,
Junior Murvin,
Camberwell Now,
The Seeds,
T.S.O.L.,
Wolf Eyes,
The Index,
Schoolly D,
Robert Hood,
Lakeside,
Peter and Kerry,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Last Poets,
Agitation Free,
Bootsy Collins,
Motorama,
Johnny Clarke,
Young Marble Giants,
Fad Gadget,
Severed Heads,
Mission of Burma,
The Residents,
World's Most,
KRS-One,
Soft Machine,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Hashim,
ABC,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Black Dice,
Roger Hodgson,
Lucky Dragons,
Pulsallama,
Joe Smooth,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.