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 Kazakhstan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 clarinet 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 Inner City to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Animal Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
In Retrospect,
Blancmange,
Danielle Patucci,
Joensuu 1685,
Sam Rivers,
James White and The Blacks,
Royal Trux,
The Gladiators,
Groovy Waters,
Babytalk,
Subhumans,
Lalann,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Adolescents,
Urselle,
The Selecter,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Evens,
Radio Birdman,
Joy Division,
Sound Behaviour,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Desert Stars,
The Human League,
R.M.O.,
Marcia Griffiths,
X-102,
John Coltrane,
The Five Americans,
The Red Krayola,
The Blues Magoos,
The Shadows of Knight,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Television Personalities,
Y Pants,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Skaos,
Lou Reed,
Eve St. Jones,
Inner City,
Scientists,
Throbbing Gristle,
Freddie Wadling,
Parry Music,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Johnny Clarke,
Masters at Work,
Rotary Connection,
Bush Tetras,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Magma,
Public Image Ltd.,
Laurel Aitken,
Shoche,
Crispian St. Peters,
Depeche Mode,
Black Sheep,
Scion,
Reuben Wilson,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes.
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.