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 South Africa and from Delhi.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Vogues to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Amon Düül II. All the underground hits.
All Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tres Demented,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
PIL,
The Alarm Clocks,
Terry Callier,
Kenny Larkin,
Absolute Body Control,
Roger Hodgson,
Das Ding,
Fugazi,
Black Pus,
Trumans Water,
Moebius,
Henry Cow,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Maleditus Sound,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Grey Daturas,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kas Product,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dual Sessions,
Nik Kershaw,
Pulsallama,
Dead Boys,
Andrew Hill,
X-101,
Bob Dylan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Last Poets,
Shoche,
The Monks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Crispian St. Peters,
D'Angelo,
Rapeman,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jeff Mills,
Marcia Griffiths,
Electric Light Orchestra,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gastr Del Sol,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Cybotron,
Glenn Branca,
DNA,
Icehouse,
Minutemen,
Sonic Youth,
Joey Negro,
Bootsy Collins,
Swell Maps,
Little Man,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Busters,
Ken Boothe,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.