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 Hungary and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 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 R.M.O. to the grime 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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonic Youth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eurythmics,
Althea and Donna,
The Music Machine,
Average White Band,
Ultravox,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Blackbyrds,
Nick Fraelich,
The Saints,
Talk Talk,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Motions,
Agitation Free,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bang On A Can,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Radiohead,
Lightning Bolt,
Harpers Bizarre,
Aaron Thompson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Johnny Clarke,
Skriet,
Jeff Lynne,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
X-Ray Spex,
The Shadows of Knight,
Thee Headcoats,
Maurizio,
T. Rex,
F. McDonald,
Darondo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Boogie Down Productions,
Morten Harket,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gang Starr,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jawbox,
Outsiders,
David McCallum,
Matthew Bourne,
Aloha Tigers,
Swans,
Guru Guru,
Saccharine Trust,
Ice-T,
K-Klass,
X-101,
Index,
Hoover,
The Divine Comedy,
Angry Samoans,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kerrie Biddell,
Flamin' Groovies,
Erasure,
Wally Richardson,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.