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 Vietnam and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 organ 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 Babytalk to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Skatalites record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Subhumans,
The Moleskins,
Gil Scott Heron,
Moss Icon,
Roger Hodgson,
Quantec,
Prince Buster,
Alison Limerick,
Grey Daturas,
The Motions,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Smoke,
Babytalk,
Jandek,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Q65,
Crooked Eye,
Banda Bassotti,
The Litter,
Eden Ahbez,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Leonard Cohen,
Yazoo,
Lyres,
Wally Richardson,
Eve St. Jones,
The Knickerbockers,
Tomorrow,
The Walker Brothers,
Lungfish,
Steve Hackett,
Sparks,
Black Moon,
Main Source,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rod Modell,
Guru Guru,
David McCallum,
Harry Pussy,
Can,
Rosa Yemen,
June Days,
Patti Smith,
Fugazi,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Barrington Levy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Evens,
The Techniques,
The Real Kids,
Parry Music,
the Fania All-Stars,
Index,
Clear Light,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ultra Naté,
Pantaleimon,
the Soft Cell,
Brass Construction,
Andrew Hill,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.