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 Gabon and from Toronto.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Litter,
DJ Sneak,
Whodini,
The Durutti Column,
Arab on Radar,
Junior Murvin,
Silicon Teens,
Con Funk Shun,
Sun Ra,
Maurizio,
Juan Atkins,
Average White Band,
Erykah Badu,
Patti Smith,
The Sound,
Lower 48,
Black Flag,
Josef K,
E-Dancer,
Lakeside,
Tres Demented,
Half Japanese,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Suburban Knight,
Derrick May,
In Retrospect,
a-ha,
Dawn Penn,
UT,
Dead Boys,
John Holt,
The Gap Band,
Eric Copeland,
Main Source,
Letta Mbulu,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kas Product,
Barrington Levy,
The Beau Brummels,
Connie Case,
Joey Negro,
Unrelated Segments,
Bluetip,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eve St. Jones,
Audionom,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Remains,
One Last Wish,
Minor Threat,
Gabor Szabo,
John Cale,
Cameo,
Rotary Connection,
Davy DMX,
LL Cool J,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Massinfluence,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Terry Callier,
Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef.
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.