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 Burkina and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Columbus.
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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Rakim to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Audionom record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Big Daddy Kane,
Youth Brigade,
Bill Near,
Rosa Yemen,
The Angels of Light,
Agent Orange,
Monks,
Anthony Braxton,
X-Ray Spex,
Man Eating Sloth,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Minutemen,
Marshall Jefferson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pierre Henry,
Jandek,
OOIOO,
Deepchord,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Q and Not U,
Susan Cadogan,
Simply Red,
John Holt,
Rites of Spring,
Suburban Knight,
The Associates,
The Leaves,
The Fuzztones,
Pagans,
Albert Ayler,
The Modern Lovers,
Gabor Szabo,
Barry Ungar,
The Fire Engines,
Avey Tare,
Au Pairs,
Eurythmics,
Sister Nancy,
Technova,
Quadrant,
Bauhaus,
Gregory Isaacs,
Moby Grape,
The Young Rascals,
Nils Olav,
New York Dolls,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Victims,
Eli Mardock,
MC5,
Liliput,
Lyres,
Godley & Creme,
Rufus Thomas,
Delta 5,
Mr. Review,
Mo-Dettes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Soul II Soul,
Surgeon,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
D'Angelo,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.