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 El Salvador and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the grime 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 the Association. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alphaville record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pere Ubu,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Porter Ricks,
Cecil Taylor,
Boz Scaggs,
Main Source,
Pierre Henry,
Vainqueur,
The J.B.'s,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Yazoo,
Swans,
Brand Nubian,
the Bar-Kays,
Lungfish,
Stetsasonic,
Sonic Youth,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Subhumans,
Nik Kershaw,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Chrome,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Monochrome Set,
kango's stein massive,
Amon Düül,
The Durutti Column,
Byron Stingily,
The Sonics,
Quantec,
Flamin' Groovies,
Hasil Adkins,
The Alarm Clocks,
Can,
Kenny Larkin,
ABC,
Connie Case,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Fire Engines,
Rod Modell,
Gil Scott Heron,
X-Ray Spex,
Sam Rivers,
Hardrive,
Thee Headcoats,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
June of 44,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Neon Judgement,
Grauzone,
Simply Red,
The Fortunes,
Pylon,
Wasted Youth,
Ponytail,
Max Romeo,
Freddie Wadling,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.