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 Moldova and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Spokane.
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 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Average White Band to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Pet Shop Boys,
Audionom,
Mars,
Sun Ra,
Organ,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Wake,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Interpol,
Funkadelic,
Boredoms,
The Golliwogs,
Fela Kuti,
China Crisis,
Alphaville,
La Düsseldorf,
48th St. Collective,
The Skatalites,
Black Bananas,
Ponytail,
The Mummies,
John Cale,
Faraquet,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Smiths,
Harry Pussy,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Dirtbombs,
The Invisible,
Albert Ayler,
Morten Harket,
FM Einheit,
Amazonics,
The Angels of Light,
The Red Krayola,
Skriet,
Sarah Menescal,
Vainqueur,
the Human League,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
DJ Sneak,
Technova,
Crash Course in Science,
Grauzone,
Blancmange,
Heaven 17,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jandek,
Gang Gang Dance,
John Holt,
The Count Five,
Jacob Miller,
Minnie Riperton,
Schoolly D,
Excepter,
The Fugs,
Scientists,
Accadde A,
Bobby Sherman,
The Cowsills,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Fuzztones,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.