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 Belgium and from Stockholm.
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 Portland and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Tim Buckley to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Sex Pistols,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sam Rivers,
Ultravox,
Faraquet,
Ronan,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Warren Ellis,
E-Dancer,
Bad Manners,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Cluster,
Minutemen,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Joyce Sims,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Popol Vuh,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sound Behaviour,
UT,
The Slits,
Joe Finger,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ken Boothe,
Los Fastidios,
The Red Krayola,
Jacques Brel,
Lindisfarne,
Das Ding,
Unrelated Segments,
Sun Ra,
Dave Gahan,
The Mummies,
Joe Smooth,
Magma,
Panda Bear,
Harry Pussy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Angels of Light,
Rites of Spring,
Radiopuhelimet,
Robert Görl,
Erasure,
Hashim,
Black Moon,
The Moleskins,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Siglo XX,
Susan Cadogan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Clear Light,
L. Decosne,
The Associates,
Patti Smith,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Boogie Down Productions,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.