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 Nauru and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 mellotron 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 Moby Grape to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Association,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bill Wells,
The Kinks,
The Move,
Pussy Galore,
Rites of Spring,
Smog,
U.S. Maple,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lalann,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Deadbeat,
Absolute Body Control,
The Searchers,
MDC,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sonny Sharrock,
Donny Hathaway,
Girls At Our Best!,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Sonics,
Janne Schatter,
Gong,
Oneida,
Ponytail,
John Holt,
Nils Olav,
Youth Brigade,
Kayak,
Adolescents,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Kerrie Biddell,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Buzzcocks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Fat Boys,
Don Cherry,
A Flock of Seagulls,
K-Klass,
The Smoke,
The Fire Engines,
the Slits,
Soul II Soul,
E-Dancer,
Guru Guru,
Scion,
the Germs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Roxette,
Infiniti,
Tubeway Army,
T. Rex,
Ohio Players,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.