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 Malaysia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Ornette Coleman to the punk 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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Popol Vuh,
The Vogues,
Sonny Sharrock,
Masters at Work,
Roy Ayers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mantronix,
Vladislav Delay,
Magazine,
Chris Corsano,
Josef K,
Funkadelic,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Evens,
Sight & Sound,
Hasil Adkins,
Joey Negro,
Kevin Saunderson,
Los Fastidios,
Reagan Youth,
The Remains,
This Heat,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Charles Mingus,
Boredoms,
Al Stewart,
The Saints,
kango's stein massive,
Desert Stars,
Q and Not U,
The Moleskins,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lightning Bolt,
Section 25,
Eric Copeland,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Duran Duran,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Neon Judgement,
Nirvana,
The Music Machine,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Subhumans,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fatback Band,
The Slits,
The Shadows of Knight,
Graham Central Station,
Traffic Nightmare,
Make Up,
Grey Daturas,
Echospace,
In Retrospect,
The Alarm Clocks,
E-Dancer,
Howard Jones,
Kas Product,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Standells,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.