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 Liberia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Glenn Branca to the crunk 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
One Last Wish,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mad Mike,
Smog,
The Dead C,
Rhythm & Sound,
Laurel Aitken,
Freddie Wadling,
The Mojo Men,
Pharoah Sanders,
Von Mondo,
The Barracudas,
Eurythmics,
New York Dolls,
X-Ray Spex,
Scrapy,
Ludus,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Red Krayola,
The Techniques,
Cal Tjader,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Zero Boys,
Jandek,
The Toasters,
Boredoms,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Names,
OOIOO,
Pere Ubu,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Birthday Party,
Youth Brigade,
The Music Machine,
a-ha,
the Fania All-Stars,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Banda Bassotti,
David Bowie,
LL Cool J,
DJ Style,
Peter & Gordon,
Pylon,
Faraquet,
the Slits,
Shuggie Otis,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Mission of Burma,
John Holt,
Make Up,
Camouflage,
Loose Ends,
Neu!,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Germs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Residents,
Ituana,
Ronan,
KRS-One,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.