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 Pakistan and from Tehran.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Das Ding to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Index,
Bush Tetras,
the Sonics,
Amon Düül,
UT,
Throbbing Gristle,
Donny Hathaway,
Henry Cow,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Thompson Twins,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Agent Orange,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Letta Mbulu,
Jacques Brel,
Mark Hollis,
Derrick Morgan,
These Immortal Souls,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
James White and The Blacks,
The Dirtbombs,
The Divine Comedy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Eddi Front,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Misunderstood,
Underground Resistance,
The Saints,
Harry Pussy,
The Seeds,
The Raincoats,
Janne Schatter,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Angry Samoans,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The United States of America,
Pharoah Sanders,
Robert Hood,
Monolake,
Alphaville,
Easy Going,
Jandek,
Pierre Henry,
Heaven 17,
Minnie Riperton,
Jimmy McGriff,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Erykah Badu,
Al Stewart,
X-101,
Wolf Eyes,
The Gun Club,
Piero Umiliani,
Eve St. Jones,
Harpers Bizarre,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.