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 Algeria and from Houston.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Terry Callier to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sarah Menescal,
Thee Headcoats,
D'Angelo,
Metal Thangz,
Joe Finger,
Panda Bear,
L. Decosne,
Aloha Tigers,
Fat Boys,
Bad Manners,
Quadrant,
Robert Wyatt,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Fire Engines,
Fugazi,
Pulsallama,
Eric Copeland,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rapeman,
Prince Buster,
Marine Girls,
Lucky Dragons,
Bobby Womack,
Harry Pussy,
Depeche Mode,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Grey Daturas,
Marmalade,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marc Almond,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Barracudas,
Mad Mike,
Bootsy Collins,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Neu!,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mandrill,
Groovy Waters,
Harpers Bizarre,
Infiniti,
The Sound,
Parry Music,
Mark Hollis,
the Soft Cell,
The Stooges,
Silicon Teens,
Goldenarms,
Alphaville,
Mars,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Main Source,
World's Most,
Lou Christie,
Black Moon,
Sugar Minott,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.