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 Portugal and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 theremin 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 Mary Jane Girls to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s 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 Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
LL Cool J,
Funky Four + One,
The Raincoats,
The Modern Lovers,
Liliput,
Barry Ungar,
John Lydon,
Amon Düül,
Steve Hackett,
Brass Construction,
the Germs,
Danielle Patucci,
Idris Muhammad,
Yellowson,
Wally Richardson,
F. McDonald,
The Leaves,
Chris Corsano,
Ohio Players,
Bill Wells,
DNA,
The Shadows of Knight,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Gun Club,
Das Ding,
Sam Rivers,
Dennis Brown,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Public Enemy,
Wasted Youth,
Eddi Front,
Pussy Galore,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Cowsills,
Rekid,
Lalann,
Iggy Pop,
Crash Course in Science,
Blancmange,
Heaven 17,
Lyres,
Jimmy McGriff,
Guru Guru,
Sonic Youth,
the Sonics,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Section 25,
Severed Heads,
Girls At Our Best!,
Archie Shepp,
Cheater Slicks,
Mission of Burma,
The Last Poets,
James White and The Blacks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Reuben Wilson,
Quando Quango,
Carl Craig,
Johnny Osbourne,
Siglo XX,
the Swans,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.