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 Ghana and from Accra.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Edmonton.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Techniques to the disco 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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
Anakelly,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bill Wells,
Bobby Womack,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Henry Cow,
Minnie Riperton,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Quantec,
Royal Trux,
A Certain Ratio,
Spoonie Gee,
Eli Mardock,
The Barracudas,
Gabor Szabo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Adolescents,
These Immortal Souls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
New Age Steppers,
Yusef Lateef,
The Misunderstood,
Scan 7,
Sister Nancy,
Mr. Review,
Shoche,
The Monks,
Girls At Our Best!,
Second Layer,
Groovy Waters,
Rakim,
Donny Hathaway,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
La Düsseldorf,
Letta Mbulu,
Colin Newman,
Andrew Hill,
Mary Jane Girls,
Max Romeo,
Reagan Youth,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jawbox,
Lower 48,
Bob Dylan,
Buzzcocks,
the Slits,
Magazine,
The Durutti Column,
Los Fastidios,
Ultravox,
John Lydon,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Morten Harket,
Sällskapet,
a-ha,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Prince Buster,
Bronski Beat,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.