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 Austria and from Paris.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Cramps to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Yellowson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Suicide,
Joey Negro,
Aaron Thompson,
June Days,
Los Fastidios,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Germs,
T.S.O.L.,
Morten Harket,
Brothers Johnson,
Rites of Spring,
Black Flag,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Fugs,
Fear,
Fugazi,
Alison Limerick,
The Wake,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ronan,
John Lydon,
The Skatalites,
Interpol,
The Trojans,
Altered Images,
Scientists,
Electric Prunes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bad Manners,
Alice Coltrane,
The Seeds,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Monks,
Angry Samoans,
Massinfluence,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kaleidoscope,
Reuben Wilson,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Human League,
Derrick Morgan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Roxette,
Barbara Tucker,
The Fall,
Crispian St. Peters,
Flipper,
Grandmaster Flash,
Peter & Gordon,
Animal Collective,
The Walker Brothers,
Oblivians,
Amon Düül,
Blossom Toes,
CMW,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.