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 Bolivia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ice-T to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
Kerrie Biddell,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The American Breed,
The Modern Lovers,
Judy Mowatt,
Wally Richardson,
Connie Case,
Gang Starr,
10cc,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Associates,
The Shadows of Knight,
Q65,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Underground Resistance,
June of 44,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
Derrick Morgan,
Faraquet,
Camberwell Now,
The Standells,
The Martian,
The New Christs,
Scratch Acid,
Joey Negro,
R.M.O.,
Panda Bear,
Zapp,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tim Buckley,
Warsaw,
Trumans Water,
Hot Snakes,
Y Pants,
Soft Machine,
Kaleidoscope,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pulsallama,
Ultra Naté,
Black Moon,
Crooked Eye,
Minor Threat,
Radiopuhelimet,
Alice Coltrane,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bluetip,
Slave,
Altered Images,
Pierre Henry,
Lou Christie,
The Fugs,
Ultravox,
Rod Modell,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Guru Guru,
Sun City Girls,
The Gories,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.