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 Serbia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Sixth Finger to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 the Germs. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
Kenny Larkin,
Black Moon,
Oblivians,
Fear,
Babytalk,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Scientists,
The Sonics,
Glenn Branca,
Piero Umiliani,
Y Pants,
Ponytail,
Man Parrish,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
UT,
Jerry's Kids,
the Slits,
Liliput,
Agent Orange,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Moody Blues,
Flamin' Groovies,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gil Scott Heron,
The J.B.'s,
Mission of Burma,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Davy DMX,
Faust,
Maurizio,
Pagans,
John Coltrane,
Man Eating Sloth,
Soft Machine,
Crash Course in Science,
DNA,
The New Christs,
Soul II Soul,
Isaac Hayes,
Supertramp,
Tim Buckley,
Ronnie Foster,
T.S.O.L.,
Schoolly D,
Deakin,
The Remains,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Brass Construction,
The Monks,
Neu!,
Tropical Tobacco,
Brothers Johnson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Carl Craig,
Sight & Sound,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mark Hollis,
Letta Mbulu,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.