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 Samoa and from Bremen.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Idris Muhammad to the punk 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 The Victims. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox 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?
The Fortunes,
Sandy B,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bill Near,
Boredoms,
Lightning Bolt,
Scott Walker,
The Durutti Column,
Jawbox,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Detroit Cobras,
Underground Resistance,
Erykah Badu,
Royal Trux,
The Pretty Things,
Make Up,
Fatback Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
Con Funk Shun,
The Beau Brummels,
Clear Light,
The Kinks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lalo Schifrin,
New York Dolls,
Terry Callier,
Panda Bear,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Slave,
Nation of Ulysses,
Carl Craig,
Fat Boys,
Tropical Tobacco,
Alice Coltrane,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Idris Muhammad,
X-Ray Spex,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Last Poets,
Hasil Adkins,
Joy Division,
Gong,
The Fall,
UT,
Arthur Verocai,
The Monks,
June Days,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Angry Samoans,
a-ha,
The Fugs,
Joey Negro,
The Searchers,
Bang On A Can,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lee Hazlewood,
Moby Grape,
Brand Nubian,
Cecil Taylor,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.