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 Guinea-Bissau and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 clarinet 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 The Beau Brummels to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
Can,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jandek,
Magazine,
Terrestrial Tones,
Piero Umiliani,
Half Japanese,
The J.B.'s,
Terry Callier,
Wasted Youth,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Juan Atkins,
Parry Music,
the Soft Cell,
Arcadia,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Saccharine Trust,
The Doors,
H. Thieme,
Mark Hollis,
Boz Scaggs,
Scientists,
Brick,
Babytalk,
Pere Ubu,
The Associates,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pierre Henry,
The Sonics,
Niagra,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gang Green,
The Martian,
Smog,
Max Romeo,
Arab on Radar,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ultra Naté,
Wally Richardson,
Lakeside,
Flipper,
Negative Approach,
Sound Behaviour,
Animal Collective,
Maurizio,
Supertramp,
the Normal,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gichy Dan,
Fugazi,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Theoretical Girls,
Duran Duran,
Lindisfarne,
Icehouse,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Association,
Pet Shop Boys,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.