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 Kiribati and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Copenhagen.
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 marimba 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 Dave Clark Five to the jazz 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 The Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Lee Hazlewood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 rhodes and an oboe 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 organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
B.T. Express,
The Smoke,
Isaac Hayes,
Harpers Bizarre,
ABBA,
Warsaw,
Monks,
The Fortunes,
The Smiths,
Intrusion,
La Düsseldorf,
The Victims,
The Count Five,
Marc Almond,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Drexciya,
Wasted Youth,
Albert Ayler,
the Germs,
Michelle Simonal,
Alice Coltrane,
Brass Construction,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Faust,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Henry Cow,
China Crisis,
OOIOO,
The Grass Roots,
Anthony Braxton,
The Gladiators,
Severed Heads,
The Monochrome Set,
Yusef Lateef,
Dark Day,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Stereo Dub,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Maleditus Sound,
Mr. Review,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Doors,
Smog,
Crispian St. Peters,
Judy Mowatt,
Susan Cadogan,
Junior Murvin,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tres Demented,
Buzzcocks,
The Dirtbombs,
John Holt,
John Coltrane,
The Motions,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Spandau Ballet,
Pylon,
The Busters,
Zapp,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.