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 Seychelles and from Mumbai.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the oboe 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 Yazoo to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
The Fortunes,
Pussy Galore,
The Names,
The Mojo Men,
Cybotron,
Sun City Girls,
Alison Limerick,
Charles Mingus,
The Cowsills,
Letta Mbulu,
The Stooges,
The Detroit Cobras,
Blancmange,
D'Angelo,
Grey Daturas,
Harry Pussy,
Pulsallama,
Massinfluence,
U.S. Maple,
Masters at Work,
T. Rex,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sonic Youth,
Lindisfarne,
Mandrill,
The Blackbyrds,
Judy Mowatt,
The Neon Judgement,
Accadde A,
Zapp,
Chris & Cosey,
The Birthday Party,
Aswad,
Organ,
Tropical Tobacco,
Matthew Bourne,
The Star Department,
Erasure,
Agent Orange,
Max Romeo,
Piero Umiliani,
The Evens,
Rotary Connection,
Lower 48,
Ultra Naté,
Deakin,
Marshall Jefferson,
Subhumans,
Talk Talk,
The Raincoats,
DJ Sneak,
Technova,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Banda Bassotti,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Easy Going,
Tim Buckley,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Angry Samoans,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.