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 Spain and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Calgary.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Aswad to the rap 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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Smoke,
The Beau Brummels,
Amon Düül,
Q65,
Boogie Down Productions,
Derrick May,
The Smiths,
Drexciya,
Shuggie Otis,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Man Parrish,
Crooked Eye,
Zapp,
T.S.O.L.,
Arthur Verocai,
Fela Kuti,
Malaria!,
Byron Stingily,
Whodini,
The Blues Magoos,
Radio Birdman,
John Cale,
Joe Smooth,
the Normal,
Hardrive,
Alton Ellis,
The Stooges,
Freddie Wadling,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Avey Tare,
The Names,
Jesper Dahlback,
Wire,
Minutemen,
Cecil Taylor,
Television Personalities,
Accadde A,
the Sonics,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rites of Spring,
Ultravox,
The Searchers,
Neu!,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Terrestrial Tones,
June Days,
The Grass Roots,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Fire Engines,
The Mojo Men,
Hot Snakes,
Outsiders,
Fad Gadget,
The Dead C,
Stockholm Monsters,
Scrapy,
Visage,
Scratch Acid,
Gang Green,
Glambeats Corp.,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.