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 Bahrain and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Joyce Sims to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kerri Chandler,
Stiv Bators,
Sexual Harrassment,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
DJ Sneak,
Country Teasers,
Scion,
Panda Bear,
Drexciya,
Bobbi Humphrey,
John Lydon,
Arab on Radar,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sister Nancy,
Public Enemy,
The Wake,
Lou Reed,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mad Mike,
The Tremeloes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Moebius,
New York Dolls,
Michelle Simonal,
Ornette Coleman,
Aswad,
Tom Boy,
The Victims,
U.S. Maple,
X-102,
Scratch Acid,
10cc,
Throbbing Gristle,
Glenn Branca,
Audionom,
Radiohead,
Cheater Slicks,
These Immortal Souls,
Laurel Aitken,
Adolescents,
Darondo,
Moss Icon,
Gastr Del Sol,
Josef K,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Gories,
The Trojans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
48th St. Collective,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Monks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jawbox,
Suicide,
Sugar Minott,
Quadrant,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.