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 Swaziland and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 oboe 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 Roy Ayers to the crunk 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 10cc. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon 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 an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Camberwell Now,
The Tremeloes,
Mark Hollis,
Easy Going,
Andrew Hill,
Boz Scaggs,
The Slits,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Cowsills,
Soft Cell,
Sonic Youth,
The Selecter,
The Busters,
Johnny Osbourne,
Vladislav Delay,
Swell Maps,
The Buckinghams,
the Slits,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Standells,
Lalo Schifrin,
Dawn Penn,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Crime,
Eddi Front,
Harry Pussy,
Reuben Wilson,
The Star Department,
Maurizio,
Ultimate Spinach,
Yellowson,
48th St. Collective,
Danielle Patucci,
Suburban Knight,
Bronski Beat,
The Mojo Men,
David Axelrod,
Howard Jones,
The Move,
Skarface,
Dual Sessions,
Depeche Mode,
The Cure,
Marine Girls,
Thompson Twins,
Harmonia,
Pharoah Sanders,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Piero Umiliani,
Arcadia,
Glenn Branca,
Tubeway Army,
Unrelated Segments,
Barry Ungar,
Interpol,
Cymande,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Amon Düül,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.