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 Chad and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Normal to the disco 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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Severed Heads,
The Gories,
Minor Threat,
Masters at Work,
Hasil Adkins,
Chris & Cosey,
Heaven 17,
Bang On A Can,
The Evens,
Erykah Badu,
The Stooges,
Anakelly,
Gang of Four,
Laurel Aitken,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
X-Ray Spex,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Fugs,
Soulsonic Force,
Marine Girls,
Joensuu 1685,
Index,
Radio Birdman,
The Barracudas,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Dead C,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Shuggie Otis,
Nas,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Swell Maps,
Cal Tjader,
Crispy Ambulance,
Suicide,
Banda Bassotti,
Pole,
Suburban Knight,
Stockholm Monsters,
Newcleus,
Buzzcocks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
John Holt,
The Golliwogs,
The Grass Roots,
Johnny Clarke,
Bush Tetras,
Black Sheep,
Echospace,
Sandy B,
H. Thieme,
Terry Callier,
Rufus Thomas,
John Foxx,
Chris Corsano,
Maurizio,
The Dave Clark Five,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.