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 Equatorial Guinea and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 sitar 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 Magazine to the grunge 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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All Bluetip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
The Moody Blues,
Ultimate Spinach,
Arab on Radar,
Gong,
Brass Construction,
Yusef Lateef,
Tom Boy,
The Fire Engines,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Letta Mbulu,
Sexual Harrassment,
Babytalk,
Shuggie Otis,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Cameo,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Darondo,
Motorama,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Charles Mingus,
Moss Icon,
Electric Light Orchestra,
H. Thieme,
Eddi Front,
The Remains,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Human League,
the Normal,
Pere Ubu,
Popol Vuh,
the Slits,
Sällskapet,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Count Five,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gregory Isaacs,
Slave,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mr. Review,
X-101,
Kurtis Blow,
Chris Corsano,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pole,
Don Cherry,
The Invisible,
Wolf Eyes,
Quando Quango,
OOIOO,
Janne Schatter,
Echospace,
Television,
Man Eating Sloth,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Donny Hathaway,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pussy Galore,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.