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 Malaysia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 snare 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 The Human League to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn 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?
Black Flag,
Mr. Review,
Soft Cell,
The Smiths,
Sister Nancy,
Frankie Knuckles,
KRS-One,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Vogues,
Babytalk,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
48th St. Collective,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ohio Players,
The Skatalites,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sun Ra,
The Alarm Clocks,
Laurel Aitken,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nico,
Brand Nubian,
June of 44,
Depeche Mode,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
the Slits,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dual Sessions,
Steve Hackett,
Hoover,
Arthur Verocai,
Bob Dylan,
Kurtis Blow,
Tomorrow,
Echospace,
Skaos,
Scion,
Ultra Naté,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scientists,
Fad Gadget,
David Axelrod,
the Swans,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
London Community Gospel Choir,
U.S. Maple,
Cal Tjader,
This Heat,
MC5,
Ultravox,
Von Mondo,
Tears for Fears,
The Human League,
Sight & Sound,
Neu!,
Parry Music,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.