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 Switzerland and from Delhi.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Pharoah Sanders to the jazz 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 R.M.O.. All the underground hits.
All the Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid 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 sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sexual Harrassment,
Vainqueur,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
EPMD,
The Smiths,
Scott Walker,
Goldenarms,
Ice-T,
Lucky Dragons,
The Electric Prunes,
Eli Mardock,
Public Enemy,
Dennis Brown,
Groovy Waters,
Ludus,
Lindisfarne,
the Soft Cell,
Anakelly,
Jeff Mills,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bluetip,
Michelle Simonal,
Saccharine Trust,
Underground Resistance,
F. McDonald,
Parry Music,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mo-Dettes,
These Immortal Souls,
Amon Düül,
Tom Boy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Panda Bear,
Bobby Sherman,
Smog,
Ituana,
Tommy Roe,
Reagan Youth,
Ohio Players,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Skatalites,
Roger Hodgson,
The Happenings,
Grandmaster Flash,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
H. Thieme,
Jandek,
Nas,
Suicide,
Ultimate Spinach,
Qualms,
Spandau Ballet,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gang Gang Dance,
ABC,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Cure,
Bootsy Collins,
Pole,
The Gories,
Pantytec,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.