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 New Zealand and from London.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Skatalites to the funk 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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band 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 an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Basic Channel,
Don Cherry,
The J.B.'s,
Nick Fraelich,
The Gories,
Lou Christie,
Moss Icon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Arthur Verocai,
Monks,
Joensuu 1685,
Aswad,
Ultravox,
The Pop Group,
Brick,
Donny Hathaway,
The Electric Prunes,
Maleditus Sound,
Sight & Sound,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Blancmange,
Boredoms,
The Remains,
Visage,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Flamin' Groovies,
Joyce Sims,
Masters at Work,
The Dirtbombs,
Rapeman,
Jerry's Kids,
The Smoke,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Nas,
DJ Style,
Bill Wells,
Andrew Hill,
Glenn Branca,
Lindisfarne,
Young Marble Giants,
Lucky Dragons,
The Cure,
The Mojo Men,
Graham Central Station,
Porter Ricks,
Slick Rick,
New York Dolls,
The Blackbyrds,
Silicon Teens,
Jeff Mills,
In Retrospect,
Sister Nancy,
Black Sheep,
The Music Machine,
Juan Atkins,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cheater Slicks,
Godley & Creme,
Jacques Brel,
Sam Rivers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Todd Rundgren,
Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade.
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.