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 Burundi and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 clarinet 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 kango's stein massive to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage 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?
Symarip,
Hashim,
Circle Jerks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Fugs,
The Move,
Theoretical Girls,
New Age Steppers,
Pantaleimon,
Pagans,
Ronan,
Scrapy,
Anthony Braxton,
Dual Sessions,
The Angels of Light,
The Walker Brothers,
the Association,
Tubeway Army,
David Axelrod,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ten City,
Glambeats Corp.,
Joensuu 1685,
Moby Grape,
The Moody Blues,
Quadrant,
Index,
Bill Near,
Prince Buster,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Boredoms,
Bill Wells,
Deakin,
Terry Callier,
Skriet,
Slick Rick,
Joy Division,
Isaac Hayes,
Aswad,
China Crisis,
Agent Orange,
Fatback Band,
Underground Resistance,
Andrew Hill,
Blossom Toes,
Con Funk Shun,
Cluster,
Unrelated Segments,
Tres Demented,
the Normal,
Arthur Verocai,
Kayak,
Peter & Gordon,
Sixth Finger,
Charles Mingus,
The Smoke,
Don Cherry,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Seeds,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Idris Muhammad,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.