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 Australia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Music Machine to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Zero Boys,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Toasters,
The Grass Roots,
Unrelated Segments,
Accadde A,
Ituana,
Radiopuhelimet,
Nation of Ulysses,
Minny Pops,
a-ha,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Barrington Levy,
Public Enemy,
Rites of Spring,
Minor Threat,
Dave Gahan,
Bang On A Can,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Visage,
Dennis Brown,
Mo-Dettes,
Maleditus Sound,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Slits,
Black Pus,
The Sonics,
Fatback Band,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Godley & Creme,
Peter and Kerry,
The Martian,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
EPMD,
Slave,
Lungfish,
Sex Pistols,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Moody Blues,
Panda Bear,
The Mojo Men,
Glenn Branca,
Black Sheep,
Fat Boys,
Model 500,
The Cowsills,
Black Bananas,
Heaven 17,
The J.B.'s,
OOIOO,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jacob Miller,
The United States of America,
Archie Shepp,
Kerrie Biddell,
Electric Prunes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sällskapet,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.