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 Papua New Guinea and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sound Behaviour to the rap 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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Subhumans,
10cc,
Heaven 17,
Pantytec,
Zapp,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Leaves,
Glenn Branca,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
U.S. Maple,
Unwound,
Robert Görl,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Birthday Party,
Clear Light,
Gichy Dan,
ABBA,
Bronski Beat,
In Retrospect,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fela Kuti,
Monks,
Minnie Riperton,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Michelle Simonal,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Judy Mowatt,
Wire,
MDC,
The Alarm Clocks,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Fire Engines,
The Gladiators,
Skarface,
Pylon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rapeman,
Man Eating Sloth,
Nick Fraelich,
The Cure,
Kenny Larkin,
DJ Style,
Gabor Szabo,
Alice Coltrane,
Ossler,
The Fall,
James White and The Blacks,
Al Stewart,
Kaleidoscope,
World's Most,
Electric Prunes,
Mad Mike,
Funkadelic,
Robert Wyatt,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Moby Grape,
Aaron Thompson,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.