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 Equatorial Guinea and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Cymande. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kevin Saunderson,
the Association,
Sun Ra,
Althea and Donna,
The Shadows of Knight,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bush Tetras,
Be Bop Deluxe,
China Crisis,
Wasted Youth,
the Bar-Kays,
Bronski Beat,
A Certain Ratio,
the Slits,
Icehouse,
Jawbox,
Sugar Minott,
Loose Ends,
Sandy B,
Khruangbin,
The Sound,
Tom Boy,
Suicide,
Sixth Finger,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Camberwell Now,
Nils Olav,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eric Dolphy,
Cluster,
The Electric Prunes,
Crash Course in Science,
Vladislav Delay,
Public Image Ltd.,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Panda Bear,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Interpol,
Frankie Knuckles,
48th St. Collective,
Dead Boys,
Alphaville,
Lungfish,
Ohio Players,
Fatback Band,
Sound Behaviour,
The American Breed,
Throbbing Gristle,
Depeche Mode,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Brand Nubian,
Carl Craig,
Fifty Foot Hose,
B.T. Express,
Unwound,
Nation of Ulysses,
Subhumans,
Rosa Yemen,
Fluxion,
Derrick Morgan,
Parry Music,
Skaos,
Tommy Roe,
Los Fastidios,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.