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 Togo and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 chamberlin 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 Alice Coltrane to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
D'Angelo,
John Holt,
Dark Day,
Circle Jerks,
Chris & Cosey,
Pole,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Blues Magoos,
Minnie Riperton,
Zero Boys,
Mandrill,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Dirtbombs,
Moby Grape,
The Trojans,
Sarah Menescal,
Matthew Bourne,
The Smoke,
Anthony Braxton,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Freddie Wadling,
Country Teasers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cybotron,
Parry Music,
Mission of Burma,
Ice-T,
John Lydon,
Barry Ungar,
Organ,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
H. Thieme,
Rod Modell,
U.S. Maple,
The Count Five,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fat Boys,
Alphaville,
Donny Hathaway,
The Grass Roots,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Loose Ends,
Kaleidoscope,
the Germs,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Godley & Creme,
Soul Sonic Force,
Little Man,
Althea and Donna,
The Music Machine,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Flipper,
Basic Channel,
Angry Samoans,
Johnny Clarke,
Con Funk Shun,
Sandy B,
Sonic Youth,
The Misunderstood,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.