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 Hungary 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Fugs to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
Tommy Roe,
Boz Scaggs,
Franke,
Rites of Spring,
Don Cherry,
Barry Ungar,
Mr. Review,
Icehouse,
the Bar-Kays,
the Fania All-Stars,
Patti Smith,
Amon Düül,
Underground Resistance,
Nas,
Mission of Burma,
Michelle Simonal,
The Busters,
Radiohead,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Motions,
Public Image Ltd.,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Index,
Darondo,
Jeff Mills,
The Misunderstood,
June Days,
Ponytail,
Charles Mingus,
Davy DMX,
The Last Poets,
Howard Jones,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Alarm Clocks,
Soul II Soul,
KRS-One,
Scrapy,
Brass Construction,
Pylon,
Angry Samoans,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Residents,
Tim Buckley,
Derrick Morgan,
Porter Ricks,
Talk Talk,
The Fall,
Scientists,
Yusef Lateef,
the Germs,
Dawn Penn,
Half Japanese,
the Association,
Crispy Ambulance,
Agitation Free,
K-Klass,
Freddie Wadling,
Alton Ellis,
The Trojans,
Jacob Miller,
Dark Day,
Bill Near,
Arab on Radar,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.