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 Israel and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 T. Rex to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Fugazi. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Drexciya,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
D'Angelo,
Faust,
Jandek,
Lungfish,
Darondo,
Pierre Henry,
Icehouse,
Ronan,
The Dead C,
Todd Terry,
Electric Prunes,
Skaos,
Animal Collective,
Liliput,
Eurythmics,
Angry Samoans,
Robert Wyatt,
Barclay James Harvest,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mantronix,
Model 500,
Cameo,
Cymande,
Crime,
The Invisible,
Barry Ungar,
Flipper,
10cc,
Al Stewart,
Sparks,
Bobby Womack,
Q65,
Scientists,
a-ha,
Lou Reed,
The Kinks,
Heaven 17,
Pussy Galore,
June of 44,
The Selecter,
Joy Division,
Lower 48,
Crooked Eye,
Gil Scott Heron,
Chris Corsano,
AZ,
Wire,
Maurizio,
Dorothy Ashby,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Connie Case,
X-Ray Spex,
Eric Dolphy,
Godley & Creme,
Bizarre Inc.,
Camouflage,
Ornette Coleman,
David Bowie,
John Lydon,
Cal Tjader,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.