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 Montenegro and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Anthony Braxton to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Audionom record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Severed Heads,
Juan Atkins,
Black Flag,
Public Image Ltd.,
Banda Bassotti,
Big Daddy Kane,
Swell Maps,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
John Lydon,
Smog,
The Smoke,
DNA,
David McCallum,
Visage,
Wolf Eyes,
Marmalade,
Malaria!,
Simply Red,
E-Dancer,
Cheater Slicks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pole,
Jerry's Kids,
Connie Case,
Suburban Knight,
Pere Ubu,
Unwound,
Liliput,
Barrington Levy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Glenn Branca,
Nas,
Bang On A Can,
FM Einheit,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Happenings,
Accadde A,
D'Angelo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Electric Prunes,
The Gladiators,
The Walker Brothers,
Surgeon,
Quantec,
Pantytec,
Sexual Harrassment,
Johnny Clarke,
The Move,
Roy Ayers,
Moby Grape,
Pierre Henry,
the Swans,
10cc,
New York Dolls,
Lower 48,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sugar Minott,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.