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 Algeria and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flipper 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
The Dead C,
Chris & Cosey,
The Fortunes,
Darondo,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eric B and Rakim,
Brand Nubian,
Malaria!,
Hasil Adkins,
Carl Craig,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
New Order,
Nico,
June of 44,
Alison Limerick,
KRS-One,
Ituana,
Talk Talk,
Magazine,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jeff Mills,
Boz Scaggs,
Japan,
Interpol,
The Motions,
The Wake,
Buzzcocks,
Byron Stingily,
The Pretty Things,
the Soft Cell,
Ludus,
The Fall,
Bob Dylan,
Yazoo,
Wire,
Lungfish,
Crime,
the Slits,
Fat Boys,
Bush Tetras,
The Remains,
Model 500,
T.S.O.L.,
The Fugs,
Hoover,
Lalo Schifrin,
Letta Mbulu,
Second Layer,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Angels of Light,
The Black Dice,
Skarface,
Tomorrow,
Icehouse,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pylon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gil Scott Heron,
Barry Ungar,
Absolute Body Control,
Pantytec,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.