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 Woodstock.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Salvador.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Smiths to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
Sound Behaviour,
Radiopuhelimet,
X-102,
Suicide,
Sight & Sound,
The Remains,
The Litter,
The Neon Judgement,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fear,
Johnny Osbourne,
Idris Muhammad,
Crash Course in Science,
Minor Threat,
Toni Rubio,
The J.B.'s,
the Sonics,
Visage,
The Vogues,
The Wake,
Barrington Levy,
The Leaves,
the Slits,
Arab on Radar,
Matthew Bourne,
Popol Vuh,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Circle Jerks,
The Happenings,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eddi Front,
The Slits,
Wolf Eyes,
Country Teasers,
Interpol,
The United States of America,
Skaos,
The Young Rascals,
Johnny Clarke,
Graham Central Station,
The Velvet Underground,
Albert Ayler,
Trumans Water,
Young Marble Giants,
Colin Newman,
Gang Starr,
Malaria!,
Sugar Minott,
Derrick Morgan,
Cecil Taylor,
Bizarre Inc.,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jeff Mills,
John Lydon,
Black Moon,
Lightning Bolt,
Echospace,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mark Hollis,
Nils Olav,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.