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 Iran 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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Funky Four + One to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
The Monochrome Set,
Sun City Girls,
Monks,
Ludus,
Minor Threat,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Five Americans,
Symarip,
Marmalade,
Kerri Chandler,
Echospace,
The Last Poets,
DJ Sneak,
Franke,
Rod Modell,
The Fire Engines,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
T. Rex,
The Offenders,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sound Behaviour,
Crooked Eye,
Talk Talk,
Quadrant,
Soulsonic Force,
Royal Trux,
Minutemen,
Yusef Lateef,
Derrick Morgan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Wasted Youth,
The Music Machine,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Michelle Simonal,
Aural Exciters,
Tubeway Army,
Blossom Toes,
Deepchord,
Anakelly,
Fat Boys,
Boredoms,
Technova,
Nation of Ulysses,
Flash Fearless,
Tropical Tobacco,
David McCallum,
The Vogues,
The Knickerbockers,
Anthony Braxton,
David Axelrod,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Mummies,
Marvin Gaye,
Matthew Bourne,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sparks,
Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith.
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.