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 the UAE and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Roxy Music to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fugazi. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Scott Walker,
Hoover,
the Fania All-Stars,
Unrelated Segments,
Audionom,
JFA,
Underground Resistance,
Kayak,
Bob Dylan,
Black Pus,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Camouflage,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Severed Heads,
Das Ding,
Schoolly D,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Electric Prunes,
Dead Boys,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
These Immortal Souls,
The Moody Blues,
Dawn Penn,
Tomorrow,
Cluster,
The Gap Band,
Buzzcocks,
Faraquet,
Pagans,
Cybotron,
the Human League,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Iggy Pop,
Unwound,
Bobby Byrd,
Hot Snakes,
Byron Stingily,
Gang Gang Dance,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dark Day,
Guru Guru,
Vainqueur,
Radiohead,
Eric Copeland,
Fluxion,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bootsy Collins,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Black Bananas,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Cramps,
Sister Nancy,
X-102,
Basic Channel,
F. McDonald,
Visage,
Index,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Tom Boy,
Aswad,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.