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 Afghanistan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 organ 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 Archie Shepp to the grunge 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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Colin Newman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warren Ellis,
Dawn Penn,
The Index,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Dead C,
Black Bananas,
Pantaleimon,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Fela Kuti,
Metal Thangz,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Stereo Dub,
The Misunderstood,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ornette Coleman,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Livin' Joy,
Rekid,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Sonics,
Nico,
cv313,
Nirvana,
Ronnie Foster,
Severed Heads,
Little Man,
Radio Birdman,
Boz Scaggs,
Chris & Cosey,
Pierre Henry,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gang Starr,
Guru Guru,
Bill Wells,
The Slackers,
Deadbeat,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Soft Machine,
The Gap Band,
Camouflage,
The Skatalites,
Marmalade,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Anakelly,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Shuggie Otis,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Television,
Connie Case,
Pere Ubu,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Scratch Acid,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Boredoms,
Animal Collective,
Kerri Chandler,
Malaria!,
Symarip,
A Certain Ratio,
The Stooges,
John Coltrane,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.