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 Paraguay and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Gories to the techno 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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Slackers,
The Move,
Model 500,
The Monks,
KRS-One,
Urselle,
Minutemen,
Connie Case,
Radio Birdman,
Stiv Bators,
Pere Ubu,
Steve Hackett,
Marcia Griffiths,
Dawn Penn,
Yazoo,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Janne Schatter,
Quantec,
Soft Cell,
Black Bananas,
OOIOO,
Dark Day,
Kerrie Biddell,
Livin' Joy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lower 48,
Gabor Szabo,
Hasil Adkins,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Index,
The Martian,
Fatback Band,
Grey Daturas,
Johnny Clarke,
Matthew Bourne,
Fugazi,
Avey Tare,
Intrusion,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Quando Quango,
Bill Wells,
Pole,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bad Manners,
Nation of Ulysses,
Donny Hathaway,
The Happenings,
Youth Brigade,
Cluster,
Tears for Fears,
Kaleidoscope,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rhythm & Sound,
Q and Not U,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Leaves,
Fluxion,
David McCallum,
Ronan,
B.T. Express,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.