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 Ecuador and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Salvador.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Crispy Ambulance to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Terry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
The Last Poets,
Yellowson,
Echospace,
Andrew Hill,
Skaos,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Gang Green,
Faust,
Lungfish,
Babytalk,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fatback Band,
Erykah Badu,
Lou Christie,
Alison Limerick,
ABC,
Mantronix,
The Invisible,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gichy Dan,
Young Marble Giants,
The Names,
The Music Machine,
Yusef Lateef,
Yaz,
Arthur Verocai,
Soft Machine,
Index,
Wolf Eyes,
Aswad,
LL Cool J,
Cameo,
Spandau Ballet,
The Blackbyrds,
Colin Newman,
Cecil Taylor,
Sarah Menescal,
Eve St. Jones,
Skriet,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Davy DMX,
Ludus,
Ultravox,
Underground Resistance,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Main Source,
Symarip,
Unwound,
Make Up,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kurtis Blow,
Henry Cow,
FM Einheit,
Ornette Coleman,
Howard Jones,
T.S.O.L.,
Animal Collective,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.