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 Kyrgyzstan and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Last Poets to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron 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 an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delta 5,
Pantytec,
The Cure,
Michelle Simonal,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ronan,
Sex Pistols,
The Martian,
Suicide,
Erasure,
Morten Harket,
Brothers Johnson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kerri Chandler,
David McCallum,
Eurythmics,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Heaven 17,
Bobby Sherman,
AZ,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Angels of Light,
Anthony Braxton,
Tres Demented,
Roy Ayers,
Boredoms,
Ohio Players,
Intrusion,
Smog,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Drexciya,
The Grass Roots,
Arcadia,
The Sonics,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Charles Mingus,
The Gun Club,
Whodini,
cv313,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ponytail,
Bauhaus,
Dual Sessions,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Cowsills,
Kenny Larkin,
Sound Behaviour,
L. Decosne,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
U.S. Maple,
Stockholm Monsters,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Durutti Column,
Simply Red,
New Order,
Amazonics,
The Modern Lovers,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.