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 Malta and from Spokane.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 Donny Hathaway to the punk 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 Accadde A. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ultra Naté,
The Knickerbockers,
Andrew Hill,
The Misunderstood,
The Raincoats,
Max Romeo,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Davy DMX,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Pop Group,
Amon Düül II,
Magazine,
Sex Pistols,
Gong,
D'Angelo,
DJ Sneak,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Minor Threat,
Grauzone,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Barbara Tucker,
Newcleus,
Henry Cow,
Camouflage,
Johnny Clarke,
Warsaw,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
X-Ray Spex,
8 Eyed Spy,
Second Layer,
Gang Starr,
The Stooges,
Pussy Galore,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Letta Mbulu,
AZ,
Roger Hodgson,
Kas Product,
The Gun Club,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Dead C,
Quando Quango,
Parry Music,
New Order,
Yazoo,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Searchers,
The Star Department,
Surgeon,
June of 44,
Alton Ellis,
Morten Harket,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
World's Most,
Black Sheep,
Yaz,
The Sound,
Oblivians,
Vainqueur,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.