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 Egypt and from Hong Kong.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Trojans to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deepchord record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Pussy Galore,
Ornette Coleman,
Nico,
Icehouse,
The Associates,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Remains,
The Human League,
Mr. Review,
Sällskapet,
The Stooges,
Sex Pistols,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Minny Pops,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gang Green,
Jerry Gold Smith,
One Last Wish,
The American Breed,
The Dead C,
Wasted Youth,
Dark Day,
World's Most,
Reagan Youth,
These Immortal Souls,
Heaven 17,
Minutemen,
The Birthday Party,
Das Ding,
Bill Near,
Ralphi Rosario,
Morten Harket,
The Tremeloes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Henry Cow,
Scan 7,
JFA,
Desert Stars,
R.M.O.,
Angry Samoans,
Kenny Larkin,
Robert Wyatt,
Marcia Griffiths,
Terrestrial Tones,
H. Thieme,
Cybotron,
the Slits,
Q and Not U,
Mantronix,
The Standells,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Detroit Cobras,
June of 44,
Rakim,
Glenn Branca,
Funkadelic,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.