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 Turkmenistan and from Seoul.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ice-T. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring 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 marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
DNA,
Sarah Menescal,
Ken Boothe,
Juan Atkins,
Magazine,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Wolf Eyes,
EPMD,
The Slits,
Idris Muhammad,
DJ Sneak,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Evens,
The Walker Brothers,
Don Cherry,
Black Sheep,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Barrington Levy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lyres,
Althea and Donna,
Livin' Joy,
Lalann,
Infiniti,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Alphaville,
Sex Pistols,
Intrusion,
Brothers Johnson,
Blossom Toes,
Dual Sessions,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Techniques,
The Gun Club,
Scratch Acid,
Ultravox,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Joe Smooth,
Chris & Cosey,
The Raincoats,
Boogie Down Productions,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ten City,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
New Age Steppers,
Amon Düül II,
Soft Cell,
Minny Pops,
The Sound,
Tres Demented,
The Pop Group,
Public Enemy,
X-Ray Spex,
The Real Kids,
David Bowie,
Yaz,
Scion,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Gladiators,
The Skatalites,
The Associates,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.