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 Cyprus and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 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 Eric B and Rakim to the jazz 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 Kinks. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Flag record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
D'Angelo,
EPMD,
Porter Ricks,
Banda Bassotti,
Gang Starr,
Outsiders,
Fugazi,
The Black Dice,
The Star Department,
Ituana,
Suicide,
Fifty Foot Hose,
New York Dolls,
Second Layer,
The Leaves,
Kenny Larkin,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Television,
Soulsonic Force,
Shoche,
K-Klass,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
This Heat,
Joe Finger,
Cameo,
Iggy Pop,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Reagan Youth,
The Doors,
Mad Mike,
the Slits,
The Happenings,
Black Flag,
Lightning Bolt,
The Smiths,
Patti Smith,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Roxette,
John Holt,
Kas Product,
Hasil Adkins,
The Names,
Wally Richardson,
Von Mondo,
Pere Ubu,
Rotary Connection,
Minnie Riperton,
Suburban Knight,
Rod Modell,
Cybotron,
Cal Tjader,
Danielle Patucci,
Pet Shop Boys,
Yaz,
Spoonie Gee,
Oblivians,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
One Last Wish,
James White and The Blacks,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.