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 Nigeria and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 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 The Monochrome Set to the techno 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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
Chrome,
Eric Dolphy,
The Music Machine,
Fat Boys,
The Durutti Column,
Crooked Eye,
Parry Music,
Vladislav Delay,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kenny Larkin,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Letta Mbulu,
Anthony Braxton,
Joyce Sims,
The Cramps,
Pussy Galore,
Livin' Joy,
Marine Girls,
Qualms,
Rites of Spring,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Throbbing Gristle,
Shoche,
Tres Demented,
The United States of America,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
John Cale,
Tim Buckley,
Kerrie Biddell,
Severed Heads,
The Slits,
Arab on Radar,
Index,
Dead Boys,
Mr. Review,
Sun Ra,
Minnie Riperton,
Amon Düül,
Johnny Clarke,
Derrick May,
Radio Birdman,
Icehouse,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Drexciya,
The Gladiators,
Leonard Cohen,
Wire,
The Stooges,
Bobby Byrd,
Smog,
John Coltrane,
R.M.O.,
The Blackbyrds,
H. Thieme,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Al Stewart,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.