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 South Africa and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Outsiders to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Saints. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Bar-Kays,
Archie Shepp,
KRS-One,
Isaac Hayes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Stereo Dub,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scan 7,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Vladislav Delay,
Moss Icon,
Can,
Faraquet,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marine Girls,
Kerri Chandler,
Angry Samoans,
Aural Exciters,
Kevin Saunderson,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Fuzztones,
Q and Not U,
Bootsy Collins,
Neu!,
Brothers Johnson,
Yusef Lateef,
Silicon Teens,
Zapp,
Soul Sonic Force,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Morten Harket,
Slick Rick,
The United States of America,
Simply Red,
Porter Ricks,
the Slits,
Warren Ellis,
F. McDonald,
Agent Orange,
Rod Modell,
Radio Birdman,
8 Eyed Spy,
Underground Resistance,
Carl Craig,
Sight & Sound,
Parry Music,
X-101,
The Grass Roots,
Suicide,
Youth Brigade,
Bobby Byrd,
Marvin Gaye,
Fugazi,
Colin Newman,
Animal Collective,
Funky Four + One,
Nation of Ulysses,
Leonard Cohen,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.