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 Hungary and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Slits to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Matthew Halsall,
Hardrive,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pantaleimon,
The Dead C,
Gang Starr,
Man Parrish,
Don Cherry,
Camberwell Now,
48th St. Collective,
Boredoms,
Depeche Mode,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fugazi,
Harry Pussy,
Severed Heads,
The Angels of Light,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Cal Tjader,
The Selecter,
PIL,
Wings,
Public Image Ltd.,
Rod Modell,
Marc Almond,
John Coltrane,
Neil Young,
Ossler,
Cymande,
OOIOO,
Accadde A,
Jacques Brel,
Tim Buckley,
The Smoke,
Average White Band,
Nas,
Youth Brigade,
Dawn Penn,
Connie Case,
The Moleskins,
The Associates,
Pagans,
Tom Boy,
Excepter,
Sun City Girls,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
These Immortal Souls,
Marmalade,
The Beau Brummels,
The Invisible,
Bang On A Can,
Skriet,
Patti Smith,
Y Pants,
Tommy Roe,
The Index,
Michelle Simonal,
Minutemen,
Cheater Slicks,
Second Layer,
Henry Cow,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.