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 Kuwait and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Man Parrish to the funk 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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Slits,
Sällskapet,
Scott Walker,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Stereo Dub,
OOIOO,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Section 25,
Ten City,
Gang Starr,
The Fortunes,
Soul II Soul,
Underground Resistance,
Monks,
Boz Scaggs,
Lou Christie,
Accadde A,
The Busters,
Cymande,
The Fugs,
Terrestrial Tones,
Agitation Free,
Blancmange,
Gabor Szabo,
Sixth Finger,
Josef K,
Siglo XX,
Nik Kershaw,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Standells,
Lungfish,
Cecil Taylor,
Sonny Sharrock,
Animal Collective,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Index,
Alison Limerick,
Ornette Coleman,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Isaac Hayes,
10cc,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Althea and Donna,
Severed Heads,
Slick Rick,
Joey Negro,
Roy Ayers,
Roxette,
Bad Manners,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Boredoms,
The Alarm Clocks,
Girls At Our Best!,
Albert Ayler,
The Remains,
Pharoah Sanders,
Reagan Youth,
Lindisfarne,
the Sonics,
Amon Düül II,
Rod Modell,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.