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 Uruguay and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 arpeggiator 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Nik Kershaw,
AZ,
The Beau Brummels,
The Grass Roots,
Sight & Sound,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Alison Limerick,
The Mummies,
Henry Cow,
Mr. Review,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
X-Ray Spex,
The Velvet Underground,
Sex Pistols,
The Five Americans,
Jandek,
The Dave Clark Five,
B.T. Express,
June of 44,
Black Bananas,
Skarface,
Erasure,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Searchers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tropical Tobacco,
Warsaw,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Funky Four + One,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Bar-Kays,
Brand Nubian,
Lalann,
Surgeon,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cluster,
Basic Channel,
Goldenarms,
Babytalk,
Masters at Work,
DJ Sneak,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Saccharine Trust,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Gladiators,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
One Last Wish,
Faust,
The Neon Judgement,
The Stooges,
The Black Dice,
EPMD,
The Wake,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tommy Roe,
Shoche,
Magma,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.