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 Bhutan and from Calgary.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Monks to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
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,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Graham Central Station,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Stetsasonic,
Sun Ra,
Junior Murvin,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Amazonics,
The Smoke,
The Stooges,
Crooked Eye,
PIL,
The Doobie Brothers,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Slits,
Gregory Isaacs,
Erykah Badu,
a-ha,
Derrick May,
Godley & Creme,
The Toasters,
Bill Near,
Gang Starr,
Surgeon,
Blancmange,
Excepter,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Thee Headcoats,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Velvet Underground,
Rotary Connection,
Lucky Dragons,
Tears for Fears,
the Sonics,
Public Enemy,
Chris Corsano,
Wasted Youth,
Zero Boys,
Harpers Bizarre,
Roy Ayers,
Amon Düül,
Boredoms,
The Evens,
Tropical Tobacco,
Talk Talk,
Fugazi,
The Happenings,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rekid,
Faust,
Toni Rubio,
Dark Day,
Anakelly,
Pierre Henry,
Interpol,
Suicide,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.