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 Tanzania 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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 theremin 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 Marvin Gaye to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
In Retrospect,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Organ,
Wolf Eyes,
Eli Mardock,
Panda Bear,
Black Pus,
Scrapy,
Alice Coltrane,
Wire,
Rapeman,
Lalann,
Fad Gadget,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mary Jane Girls,
Joy Division,
Gang of Four,
Inner City,
Magma,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
PIL,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Faraquet,
Gang Starr,
The Real Kids,
Los Fastidios,
Barclay James Harvest,
Camouflage,
Eden Ahbez,
Heaven 17,
Josef K,
John Holt,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sonny Sharrock,
Goldenarms,
Robert Wyatt,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Tres Demented,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sight & Sound,
Scott Walker,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nas,
Livin' Joy,
Loose Ends,
Nirvana,
Rites of Spring,
The Music Machine,
Flamin' Groovies,
Graham Central Station,
Rakim,
10cc,
Charles Mingus,
Pussy Galore,
Surgeon,
Bob Dylan,
DJ Sneak,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.