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 Norway and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 The Toasters to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
New York Dolls,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Slave,
Q65,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Doors,
Lalo Schifrin,
Panda Bear,
Jeff Mills,
Glenn Branca,
Goldenarms,
The Gories,
kango's stein massive,
Josef K,
Black Bananas,
the Sonics,
Lee Hazlewood,
Althea and Donna,
Barrington Levy,
Anthony Braxton,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Trojans,
Procol Harum,
Tomorrow,
Porter Ricks,
Rekid,
Steve Hackett,
The American Breed,
The Blackbyrds,
Quando Quango,
The Durutti Column,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fugazi,
Sam Rivers,
Black Flag,
Sexual Harrassment,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Neon Judgement,
Kenny Larkin,
Khruangbin,
Little Man,
D'Angelo,
The Stooges,
LL Cool J,
Sixth Finger,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Matthew Halsall,
Black Sheep,
Mr. Review,
Lyres,
Alphaville,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
X-101,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pere Ubu,
Bobby Sherman,
Camberwell Now,
Scan 7,
The Dirtbombs,
Ornette Coleman,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.