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 Romania and from Lagos.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Blake Baxter to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Sister Nancy,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bill Wells,
Delta 5,
Marcia Griffiths,
Smog,
Accadde A,
MDC,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Standells,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lightning Bolt,
Harpers Bizarre,
Camberwell Now,
Shoche,
Icehouse,
Tim Buckley,
Make Up,
Todd Terry,
Guru Guru,
Skaos,
Heaven 17,
Yusef Lateef,
Clear Light,
Ronnie Foster,
AZ,
Sonic Youth,
The Doors,
The Five Americans,
Slave,
Traffic Nightmare,
Shuggie Otis,
Main Source,
Unwound,
Man Parrish,
The Motions,
Bizarre Inc.,
MC5,
Kenny Larkin,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nils Olav,
The Seeds,
Von Mondo,
Duran Duran,
Rites of Spring,
Outsiders,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Janne Schatter,
The Zeros,
Wally Richardson,
Ralphi Rosario,
Black Flag,
Wasted Youth,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Visage,
The Gladiators,
Wings,
The Grass Roots,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Urselle,
Flash Fearless,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.