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 Bahrain and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 Scientists to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moss Icon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Public Enemy,
Arab on Radar,
Desert Stars,
Eurythmics,
Kerri Chandler,
Ten City,
the Swans,
the Germs,
The Dead C,
Davy DMX,
The Saints,
Todd Terry,
Qualms,
PIL,
Dave Gahan,
Neil Young,
The Move,
Cymande,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Underground Resistance,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Blackbyrds,
Archie Shepp,
Althea and Donna,
R.M.O.,
The Human League,
Reagan Youth,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lou Christie,
Hashim,
Stereo Dub,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Fortunes,
Reuben Wilson,
Bad Manners,
The Count Five,
Lucky Dragons,
The Leaves,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Iggy Pop,
Ken Boothe,
Scratch Acid,
Q and Not U,
the Human League,
the Fania All-Stars,
U.S. Maple,
Pere Ubu,
Lungfish,
Johnny Osbourne,
Soulsonic Force,
June of 44,
Barbara Tucker,
The Flesh Eaters,
The J.B.'s,
The Gories,
Alison Limerick,
Porter Ricks,
The Names,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.