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 Portugal and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 clarinet 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 Cluster to the rock 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 Newcleus. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oblivians record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
Tropical Tobacco,
Angry Samoans,
Rekid,
Jacques Brel,
Archie Shepp,
Symarip,
Scrapy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Andrew Hill,
June of 44,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Crash Course in Science,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dark Day,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Motions,
Clear Light,
Hoover,
Jesper Dahlback,
Joensuu 1685,
Anthony Braxton,
Amazonics,
Neu!,
Black Bananas,
Masters at Work,
These Immortal Souls,
Lucky Dragons,
Prince Buster,
Alice Coltrane,
Traffic Nightmare,
LL Cool J,
Shoche,
Frankie Knuckles,
Flipper,
Franke,
Aloha Tigers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Grandmaster Flash,
Slick Rick,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Glenn Branca,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Youth Brigade,
The Invisible,
Joyce Sims,
Rosa Yemen,
The Doors,
Porter Ricks,
Freddie Wadling,
Monks,
the Germs,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Easy Going,
Maleditus Sound,
Pere Ubu,
Funky Four + One,
Q and Not U,
Make Up,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.