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 Italy and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lille.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Peter and Kerry to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ohio Players,
Y Pants,
Essential Logic,
Basic Channel,
The Leaves,
Hoover,
The Golliwogs,
Brick,
Aswad,
La Düsseldorf,
Bauhaus,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
DJ Sneak,
The Monks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sex Pistols,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sister Nancy,
Ronan,
John Holt,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eurythmics,
Youth Brigade,
H. Thieme,
Half Japanese,
Fugazi,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Selecter,
Trumans Water,
Gil Scott Heron,
Duran Duran,
Joey Negro,
Stereo Dub,
Jimmy McGriff,
Depeche Mode,
Amon Düül II,
Livin' Joy,
Wally Richardson,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Metal Thangz,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Andrew Hill,
Pierre Henry,
Symarip,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Matthew Bourne,
Tres Demented,
Pere Ubu,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Barry Ungar,
This Heat,
Can,
In Retrospect,
Ornette Coleman,
The Litter,
Niagra,
The Young Rascals,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Marshall Jefferson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.