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 Moldova and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Michael McDonald 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the electroclash 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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton 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 marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy Collins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Von Mondo,
Cecil Taylor,
Rod Modell,
Susan Cadogan,
the Human League,
Smog,
John Foxx,
a-ha,
Andrew Hill,
Soulsonic Force,
Kaleidoscope,
Radiohead,
Pulsallama,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lower 48,
Aloha Tigers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sugar Minott,
Joyce Sims,
Jeff Mills,
John Coltrane,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rufus Thomas,
Lungfish,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Byron Stingily,
T. Rex,
Patti Smith,
The Electric Prunes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Fire Engines,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Banda Bassotti,
The Gladiators,
Harmonia,
The Seeds,
The Searchers,
Hardrive,
Bluetip,
Make Up,
Piero Umiliani,
The Martian,
Suicide,
Junior Murvin,
Archie Shepp,
Talk Talk,
Section 25,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Severed Heads,
Darondo,
The Dead C,
Trumans Water,
Crispy Ambulance,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.