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 Mali and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
UT,
Aural Exciters,
Theoretical Girls,
Gil Scott Heron,
Unwound,
Can,
Barrington Levy,
Steve Hackett,
Technova,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rites of Spring,
Fat Boys,
The Angels of Light,
Donald Byrd,
Arcadia,
the Sonics,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ituana,
The Offenders,
Royal Trux,
The Standells,
The Saints,
Moebius,
Cymande,
Amon Düül II,
Bauhaus,
Ponytail,
Sister Nancy,
the Swans,
Bronski Beat,
Donny Hathaway,
New Order,
Ice-T,
Gang of Four,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jerry's Kids,
The Associates,
Max Romeo,
The Dirtbombs,
Hoover,
Cameo,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Curtis Mayfield,
Public Enemy,
Pussy Galore,
Joensuu 1685,
Shuggie Otis,
Yaz,
Youth Brigade,
Soul II Soul,
Tres Demented,
The Move,
The Doors,
cv313,
Sexual Harrassment,
Oneida,
Spoonie Gee,
Marine Girls,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jeff Lynne,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Selecter,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.