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 Kazakhstan and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Nas to the crunk 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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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?
Rekid,
Index,
Yaz,
Loose Ends,
Harry Pussy,
Funkadelic,
the Normal,
David McCallum,
Dual Sessions,
Joe Smooth,
Cecil Taylor,
The Buckinghams,
Marvin Gaye,
Ken Boothe,
Chris & Cosey,
The Raincoats,
Chris Corsano,
Rod Modell,
H. Thieme,
Kayak,
The Velvet Underground,
Nirvana,
Intrusion,
Franke,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
F. McDonald,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
World's Most,
Black Moon,
8 Eyed Spy,
The New Christs,
Altered Images,
Jandek,
Danielle Patucci,
Eurythmics,
Bootsy Collins,
Animal Collective,
Sonic Youth,
Eden Ahbez,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sparks,
Lucky Dragons,
The Techniques,
Royal Trux,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ponytail,
Suicide,
Deepchord,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lalann,
The Cure,
The Gap Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Traffic Nightmare,
Zapp,
Echospace,
Pere Ubu,
Gil Scott Heron,
Aaron Thompson,
Popol Vuh,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.