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 Ireland and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the dance 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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonic Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Sandy B,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Soft Cell,
The Monks,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Fugs,
Procol Harum,
Bush Tetras,
Swans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Monochrome Set,
Minutemen,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Patti Smith,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Marvin Gaye,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Fall,
Basic Channel,
Arcadia,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tim Buckley,
Slave,
The Cowsills,
Second Layer,
Lalann,
The Smoke,
Yusef Lateef,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Nils Olav,
The Real Kids,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Sonics,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Angels of Light,
John Coltrane,
Kenny Larkin,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Associates,
Ice-T,
Lou Reed,
Jandek,
F. McDonald,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Raincoats,
Japan,
Don Cherry,
Technova,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Last Poets,
Goldenarms,
Newcleus,
The J.B.'s,
Blossom Toes,
Erykah Badu,
Blancmange,
Radiopuhelimet,
Clear Light,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.