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 Sri Lanka and from Toronto.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Blossom Toes,
the Sonics,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sugar Minott,
Buzzcocks,
Lungfish,
The Golliwogs,
Sister Nancy,
Symarip,
The Modern Lovers,
Desert Stars,
the Bar-Kays,
Joyce Sims,
X-Ray Spex,
Skriet,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Five Americans,
Lalo Schifrin,
Easy Going,
The Smoke,
MDC,
Monolake,
Marshall Jefferson,
Television Personalities,
Grey Daturas,
Bobby Womack,
Connie Case,
Rosa Yemen,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sällskapet,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Todd Rundgren,
The Durutti Column,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
China Crisis,
Letta Mbulu,
Yazoo,
EPMD,
Mad Mike,
The Leaves,
The Move,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Malaria!,
Pulsallama,
Cybotron,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lucky Dragons,
Shuggie Otis,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Icehouse,
John Cale,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Quando Quango,
H. Thieme,
Groovy Waters,
Excepter,
Camouflage,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.