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 Mauritania and from Stockholm.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Slick Rick to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Au Pairs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Matthew Halsall,
R.M.O.,
D'Angelo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Five Americans,
Warsaw,
Alison Limerick,
Flipper,
The Sisters of Mercy,
June of 44,
Rod Modell,
Amon Düül,
Altered Images,
Delta 5,
Nils Olav,
Man Eating Sloth,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lucky Dragons,
Blossom Toes,
The Music Machine,
Can,
Gang Starr,
The Selecter,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Slackers,
Niagra,
Fad Gadget,
Bobby Hutcherson,
OOIOO,
Agent Orange,
The Wake,
Zero Boys,
Lou Reed,
The Cramps,
Newcleus,
Depeche Mode,
The Walker Brothers,
U.S. Maple,
the Bar-Kays,
The Fugs,
These Immortal Souls,
Technova,
Michelle Simonal,
Second Layer,
Pulsallama,
John Holt,
Joey Negro,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Gap Band,
Trumans Water,
Bobby Sherman,
Black Flag,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Leonard Cohen,
Average White Band,
Rites of Spring,
Eurythmics,
Robert Wyatt,
Crispy Ambulance,
Hardrive,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.