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 Maldives and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Milan.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Grandmaster Flash to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
DNA,
Barry Ungar,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Offenders,
Zapp,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Germs,
Scion,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Joyce Sims,
Glenn Branca,
Suburban Knight,
Liliput,
John Coltrane,
FM Einheit,
Jawbox,
The Grass Roots,
Jeff Mills,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
John Lydon,
The Seeds,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Yazoo,
Camouflage,
The Flesh Eaters,
Unrelated Segments,
The Divine Comedy,
Magazine,
The Fall,
Neu!,
The Associates,
Sandy B,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Half Japanese,
The Techniques,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Star Department,
The Smiths,
Ultimate Spinach,
Qualms,
Motorama,
David Axelrod,
Country Teasers,
Ohio Players,
Unwound,
Niagra,
Spandau Ballet,
Donald Byrd,
Royal Trux,
Kerrie Biddell,
Judy Mowatt,
The Cure,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Toni Rubio,
Hoover,
Eric Dolphy,
The Modern Lovers,
Procol Harum,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.