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 Uganda and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 spring reverb 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 Bobby Womack to the techno 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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
Deakin,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Faust,
Panda Bear,
Todd Rundgren,
The Electric Prunes,
Eurythmics,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
E-Dancer,
Jerry Gold Smith,
K-Klass,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Misunderstood,
Mr. Review,
Byron Stingily,
the Slits,
Kerri Chandler,
Royal Trux,
Slick Rick,
In Retrospect,
Darondo,
Alison Limerick,
Symarip,
The Shadows of Knight,
David Bowie,
Peter and Kerry,
Tropical Tobacco,
Los Fastidios,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Anakelly,
L. Decosne,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Crash Course in Science,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nas,
Camouflage,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Blues Magoos,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Monks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wolf Eyes,
David Axelrod,
June of 44,
Black Flag,
Das Ding,
Boredoms,
The Monochrome Set,
The Dirtbombs,
Cal Tjader,
Andrew Hill,
Johnny Clarke,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Connie Case,
Chris & Cosey,
Alphaville,
Lou Reed,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.