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 Pakistan and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Jacques Brel to the rock 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flash Fearless record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
The Five Americans,
The Smiths,
The Tremeloes,
Albert Ayler,
The Smoke,
Bang On A Can,
Gichy Dan,
Rod Modell,
Youth Brigade,
The Monks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Fall,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ultra Naté,
Eli Mardock,
Arab on Radar,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ituana,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Cramps,
The Black Dice,
Pussy Galore,
Kerrie Biddell,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scratch Acid,
Oneida,
Negative Approach,
Eric B and Rakim,
Alphaville,
Japan,
The Moleskins,
Model 500,
Alice Coltrane,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Mojo Men,
48th St. Collective,
Q65,
The Barracudas,
Howard Jones,
Bad Manners,
Tom Boy,
Visage,
Symarip,
K-Klass,
Pantaleimon,
Amon Düül,
Brothers Johnson,
The Pretty Things,
Harry Pussy,
Parry Music,
The Standells,
Lou Reed,
Clear Light,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Skatalites,
U.S. Maple,
Black Bananas,
Public Enemy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nirvana,
Todd Terry,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.