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 Argentina and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Magma to the rap 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 Fluxion. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
MC5,
Yazoo,
DJ Style,
Accadde A,
The Saints,
Gang Gang Dance,
Tears for Fears,
Joyce Sims,
R.M.O.,
The Vogues,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Newcleus,
Joy Division,
Intrusion,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bobby Sherman,
The Toasters,
Thee Headcoats,
Sixth Finger,
Groovy Waters,
The Raincoats,
Masters at Work,
The Techniques,
Mark Hollis,
Camouflage,
Angry Samoans,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
World's Most,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Gun Club,
the Bar-Kays,
UT,
China Crisis,
X-102,
Black Pus,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bob Dylan,
Jeff Mills,
The Cowsills,
Tim Buckley,
The Motions,
Khruangbin,
Fat Boys,
Althea and Donna,
The Red Krayola,
Guru Guru,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lungfish,
Henry Cow,
DJ Sneak,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pere Ubu,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Malaria!,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.