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 South Africa and from Calgary.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the sitar 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 United States of America to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron 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?
The Evens,
Lebanon Hanover,
Crime,
Suicide,
Minutemen,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ornette Coleman,
Glambeats Corp.,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Swans,
Joe Smooth,
Sister Nancy,
Scratch Acid,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tim Buckley,
The Gladiators,
Byron Stingily,
Lakeside,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Drexciya,
The Young Rascals,
Roger Hodgson,
Unrelated Segments,
Robert Wyatt,
Dead Boys,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rakim,
The Martian,
Fad Gadget,
Lungfish,
The Cowsills,
Rod Modell,
Sight & Sound,
The Angels of Light,
Boredoms,
Charles Mingus,
Cecil Taylor,
Tomorrow,
Infiniti,
Sun Ra,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fluxion,
Oblivians,
L. Decosne,
Derrick Morgan,
The Move,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Japan,
New Order,
Barry Ungar,
Loose Ends,
The Skatalites,
Hoover,
Essential Logic,
Johnny Clarke,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Durutti Column,
Kevin Saunderson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Neu!,
Gichy Dan,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.