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 Barbados and from Toronto.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 clarinet 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 Warsaw to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Unrelated Segments,
X-101,
Ronan,
Scion,
The Monochrome Set,
Davy DMX,
Negative Approach,
Maurizio,
Moebius,
Skarface,
Mark Hollis,
Alton Ellis,
Lightning Bolt,
Scrapy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Loose Ends,
Hot Snakes,
the Association,
Juan Atkins,
The Angels of Light,
Tres Demented,
The Martian,
Kaleidoscope,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Derrick May,
Spoonie Gee,
the Bar-Kays,
Dennis Brown,
Arthur Verocai,
Pantaleimon,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Donald Byrd,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Beau Brummels,
Procol Harum,
The Mojo Men,
Goldenarms,
Siglo XX,
The Real Kids,
Johnny Clarke,
Rod Modell,
Amon Düül,
Eric Dolphy,
James White and The Blacks,
Colin Newman,
Suicide,
Faraquet,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Alice Coltrane,
The Pretty Things,
Severed Heads,
Oneida,
Tommy Roe,
Erasure,
Minny Pops,
Joensuu 1685,
Bush Tetras,
Supertramp,
a-ha,
The Moody Blues,
Arab on Radar,
Al Stewart,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))).
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.