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 Bangladesh and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 clarinet 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 Camouflage to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
The Sound,
The Electric Prunes,
Moss Icon,
Angry Samoans,
Gang Gang Dance,
Maurizio,
Fela Kuti,
Monolake,
The Index,
Dark Day,
Minor Threat,
Black Pus,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Brand Nubian,
Matthew Bourne,
Wire,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Moleskins,
Ralphi Rosario,
Newcleus,
Kas Product,
Agitation Free,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Alice Coltrane,
Thee Headcoats,
The American Breed,
Jeff Mills,
Joe Finger,
Rapeman,
Ituana,
Ossler,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Motorama,
Connie Case,
Warsaw,
The Slackers,
The Modern Lovers,
the Bar-Kays,
ABBA,
Suburban Knight,
Pole,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ultimate Spinach,
Stereo Dub,
Rhythm & Sound,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Fire Engines,
Pylon,
K-Klass,
Nirvana,
Black Bananas,
Big Daddy Kane,
Royal Trux,
Thompson Twins,
Grauzone,
Tom Boy,
Yaz,
Mandrill,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))).
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.