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 Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
Country Teasers,
Roxette,
K-Klass,
Essential Logic,
The Pop Group,
The Victims,
Idris Muhammad,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Camberwell Now,
Drive Like Jehu,
Inner City,
Dave Gahan,
Deakin,
Cal Tjader,
Little Man,
Magazine,
Rekid,
Don Cherry,
Hot Snakes,
Warsaw,
The Five Americans,
Pierre Henry,
Alison Limerick,
Barbara Tucker,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Average White Band,
Oneida,
A Certain Ratio,
The Litter,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Zeros,
Parry Music,
The Modern Lovers,
Yellowson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Smog,
Wolf Eyes,
Section 25,
Kool Moe Dee,
Arthur Verocai,
Robert Görl,
The Golliwogs,
The Wake,
Massinfluence,
Kaleidoscope,
Circle Jerks,
Rapeman,
The Divine Comedy,
Magma,
Rakim,
The Smiths,
Quando Quango,
Reuben Wilson,
Prince Buster,
Juan Atkins,
Hardrive,
The Monochrome Set,
Cybotron,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.