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 Nauru and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 spring reverb 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the funk 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 The Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Joe Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Desert Stars,
The Offenders,
Mantronix,
Nick Fraelich,
One Last Wish,
Peter & Gordon,
Gang Gang Dance,
La Düsseldorf,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The New Christs,
Brick,
Alice Coltrane,
Rites of Spring,
The Birthday Party,
Unrelated Segments,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Dead C,
Surgeon,
Lakeside,
Danielle Patucci,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
Severed Heads,
Scratch Acid,
Kayak,
Leonard Cohen,
Man Eating Sloth,
Mandrill,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Fall,
Maurizio,
ABC,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Livin' Joy,
Henry Cow,
Minny Pops,
The Busters,
Archie Shepp,
The Red Krayola,
Tim Buckley,
the Normal,
Scion,
Model 500,
Boogie Down Productions,
Davy DMX,
Connie Case,
the Sonics,
Altered Images,
Donald Byrd,
Chris & Cosey,
Clear Light,
Audionom,
KRS-One,
Young Marble Giants,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Soft Cell,
Steve Hackett,
Lalo Schifrin,
Moby Grape,
The Slits,
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.