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 Sweden and from Johannesburg.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Salvador.
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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bill Near to the rap 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 Schoolly D. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Tomorrow,
Magma,
Theoretical Girls,
Sandy B,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lyres,
Ossler,
B.T. Express,
48th St. Collective,
Kas Product,
Youth Brigade,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Popol Vuh,
Silicon Teens,
Joyce Sims,
Hoover,
Vladislav Delay,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ten City,
Marc Almond,
Johnny Clarke,
Urselle,
Pierre Henry,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Q and Not U,
Black Pus,
June of 44,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rhythm & Sound,
Camouflage,
Neil Young,
Glenn Branca,
Barbara Tucker,
The Black Dice,
Cymande,
Darondo,
The Invisible,
the Sonics,
the Slits,
Monolake,
The Sound,
Rakim,
Warren Ellis,
The Fuzztones,
Robert Görl,
Das Ding,
Visage,
Amon Düül,
Schoolly D,
Depeche Mode,
The Gun Club,
Agent Orange,
Bobby Byrd,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Black Bananas,
Marcia Griffiths,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Arab on Radar,
Arthur Verocai,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.