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 Somalia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 organ 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 Fela Kuti to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Misunderstood,
Amazonics,
Erasure,
DNA,
Drexciya,
The Neon Judgement,
Dawn Penn,
Todd Rundgren,
Sixth Finger,
Grauzone,
Quantec,
Skarface,
The Mummies,
Mad Mike,
Camberwell Now,
Public Enemy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Names,
Max Romeo,
Gang Starr,
The Selecter,
Bootsy Collins,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ice-T,
Wings,
Liliput,
Newcleus,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rufus Thomas,
The Cure,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Model 500,
The Residents,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Howard Jones,
Stiv Bators,
Crime,
The Count Five,
U.S. Maple,
Country Teasers,
Index,
Rapeman,
DJ Style,
Joe Smooth,
Johnny Clarke,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Henry Cow,
Interpol,
Iggy Pop,
The Leaves,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marine Girls,
Minutemen,
Aswad,
Fatback Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Thompson Twins,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.