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 Sweden and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 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 The Toasters to the grunge 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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
Radio Birdman,
Metal Thangz,
Quadrant,
Parry Music,
Kaleidoscope,
The Sound,
Ronan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Main Source,
Harry Pussy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Offenders,
James White and The Blacks,
The Young Rascals,
F. McDonald,
Deepchord,
Sexual Harrassment,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Slits,
T. Rex,
Max Romeo,
Yellowson,
Dark Day,
Reagan Youth,
Fad Gadget,
The Misunderstood,
Make Up,
Intrusion,
The Real Kids,
Sam Rivers,
Surgeon,
Kevin Saunderson,
Josef K,
Tubeway Army,
Mr. Review,
Lightning Bolt,
Marshall Jefferson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Black Bananas,
Mo-Dettes,
Henry Cow,
Interpol,
Outsiders,
Tomorrow,
Suicide,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kurtis Blow,
Lucky Dragons,
The Dead C,
Negative Approach,
Skarface,
Ornette Coleman,
Black Flag,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.