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 San Marino and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 chamberlin 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 Reuben Wilson to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Unwound. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas 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 guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Man Parrish,
Subhumans,
Sparks,
Dead Boys,
Arthur Verocai,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Main Source,
Audionom,
OOIOO,
The Leaves,
Minnie Riperton,
Tubeway Army,
Brick,
Eddi Front,
The Evens,
Liliput,
The Beau Brummels,
Ornette Coleman,
The Velvet Underground,
Cameo,
K-Klass,
The Grass Roots,
Aswad,
The Kinks,
Arab on Radar,
the Human League,
Ronan,
The Moleskins,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Mighty Diamonds,
the Swans,
Ice-T,
Cluster,
Delta 5,
The Doors,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kenny Larkin,
Eden Ahbez,
Laurel Aitken,
Lalann,
Faraquet,
Mary Jane Girls,
Young Marble Giants,
Tres Demented,
Jeff Mills,
Ultimate Spinach,
Cecil Taylor,
Pierre Henry,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Dual Sessions,
Cybotron,
Nation of Ulysses,
T.S.O.L.,
Tom Boy,
Porter Ricks,
Lou Christie,
Depeche Mode,
U.S. Maple,
Sex Pistols,
Reuben Wilson,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.