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 Paraguay and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 Alison Limerick to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Wake. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Wake,
the Bar-Kays,
Leonard Cohen,
Pylon,
Minnie Riperton,
the Association,
Lungfish,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Laurel Aitken,
The Dirtbombs,
Pantytec,
Tommy Roe,
Ornette Coleman,
Wings,
The Tremeloes,
Freddie Wadling,
Shuggie Otis,
Brick,
Crooked Eye,
Marshall Jefferson,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sugar Minott,
June Days,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Velvet Underground,
The Saints,
The Blues Magoos,
Matthew Halsall,
Barry Ungar,
Brass Construction,
Barrington Levy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Blackbyrds,
Kaleidoscope,
Ohio Players,
Spandau Ballet,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sparks,
Qualms,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bill Near,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Names,
The Evens,
Gichy Dan,
Scrapy,
Soft Machine,
Royal Trux,
Skaos,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Harpers Bizarre,
Monks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Avey Tare,
Tubeway Army,
The Knickerbockers,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.