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 Japan and from Cairo.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mexico City.
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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Cecil Taylor to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
The Real Kids,
The Slits,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Amazonics,
The Birthday Party,
Grandmaster Flash,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Divine Comedy,
Little Man,
Pussy Galore,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Derrick May,
Ultra Naté,
Procol Harum,
Peter and Kerry,
Oblivians,
Crispy Ambulance,
Throbbing Gristle,
Loose Ends,
Public Enemy,
Von Mondo,
Johnny Osbourne,
Circle Jerks,
Jeff Mills,
These Immortal Souls,
Mo-Dettes,
Yaz,
Babytalk,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sister Nancy,
Jacob Miller,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
kango's stein massive,
DJ Sneak,
Eric B and Rakim,
OOIOO,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tres Demented,
Ossler,
Organ,
Brand Nubian,
The Human League,
Joensuu 1685,
Marmalade,
The Fugs,
the Sonics,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
LL Cool J,
Tubeway Army,
Nik Kershaw,
Desert Stars,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Crooked Eye,
Lower 48,
Fugazi,
Simply Red,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.