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 Oman and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bill Near to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Josef K record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Toasters,
Faust,
Malaria!,
A Certain Ratio,
Lalo Schifrin,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jandek,
Shuggie Otis,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Red Krayola,
Masters at Work,
LL Cool J,
Porter Ricks,
Alphaville,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Hashim,
Sexual Harrassment,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Golliwogs,
Oneida,
Scientists,
Leonard Cohen,
Severed Heads,
JFA,
Tres Demented,
Pierre Henry,
Curtis Mayfield,
Vladislav Delay,
Goldenarms,
Letta Mbulu,
Angry Samoans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Crime,
Funky Four + One,
Nik Kershaw,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Remains,
Cal Tjader,
Lightning Bolt,
Warsaw,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Searchers,
Harry Pussy,
Cheater Slicks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Q and Not U,
Idris Muhammad,
Section 25,
F. McDonald,
Kerri Chandler,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ken Boothe,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Moleskins,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.