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 Palau and from Calgary.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the rock 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Dolphy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Last Poets,
JFA,
Essential Logic,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Von Mondo,
Amon Düül,
Glambeats Corp.,
Angry Samoans,
Hoover,
Joe Smooth,
Bill Wells,
Clear Light,
Underground Resistance,
the Association,
Tubeway Army,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nico,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Radiohead,
Animal Collective,
The Blackbyrds,
The New Christs,
Swans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Liliput,
Hashim,
Yusef Lateef,
Deepchord,
Todd Rundgren,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Suburban Knight,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Invisible,
DNA,
Nirvana,
the Swans,
Dark Day,
Smog,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gang of Four,
Iggy Pop,
Johnny Osbourne,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Durutti Column,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mission of Burma,
Con Funk Shun,
Quando Quango,
Michelle Simonal,
ABBA,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Brand Nubian,
Faraquet,
A Certain Ratio,
Shoche,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.