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 Syria and from Salvador.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 harpsichord 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 Unwound to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Barbara Tucker. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Malaria!,
Yusef Lateef,
Harpers Bizarre,
Dead Boys,
the Fania All-Stars,
R.M.O.,
Barbara Tucker,
Roy Ayers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ice-T,
Bootsy Collins,
Khruangbin,
The Grass Roots,
Sparks,
Alton Ellis,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Little Man,
Livin' Joy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Alice Coltrane,
Dark Day,
H. Thieme,
Radio Birdman,
Tres Demented,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Boz Scaggs,
Mantronix,
Aloha Tigers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sister Nancy,
B.T. Express,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Smiths,
Chrome,
Throbbing Gristle,
Circle Jerks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ultimate Spinach,
Mars,
Joe Finger,
Junior Murvin,
Gichy Dan,
Dawn Penn,
Negative Approach,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marine Girls,
Surgeon,
The Gladiators,
Scratch Acid,
Funkadelic,
Moebius,
The Gories,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Tubeway Army,
The Offenders,
Eurythmics,
The Divine Comedy,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.