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 Netherlands and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Donald Fagen 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 Terrestrial Tones to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar 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 synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Tim Buckley,
Alice Coltrane,
Maurizio,
The Invisible,
Freddie Wadling,
Arab on Radar,
Sixth Finger,
Josef K,
Zapp,
The Selecter,
Newcleus,
The Residents,
The Leaves,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Fall,
Wally Richardson,
Tears for Fears,
The Saints,
Mission of Burma,
Pantaleimon,
Marvin Gaye,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Deakin,
The Smiths,
Nik Kershaw,
Ohio Players,
Ice-T,
Monolake,
Dual Sessions,
Supertramp,
kango's stein massive,
Boz Scaggs,
The Young Rascals,
Girls At Our Best!,
Swell Maps,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jandek,
the Germs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Scott Walker,
Hot Snakes,
The New Christs,
The Divine Comedy,
Althea and Donna,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Barbara Tucker,
Nils Olav,
Pere Ubu,
48th St. Collective,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Morten Harket,
Junior Murvin,
Whodini,
The Pop Group,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.