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 Belgium and from Bremen.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Blackbyrds to the punk 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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Mission of Burma,
Yellowson,
kango's stein massive,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
This Heat,
The Smiths,
Monolake,
The Doors,
Glambeats Corp.,
Average White Band,
Schoolly D,
Mark Hollis,
Jerry's Kids,
Sixth Finger,
The Grass Roots,
Television,
Josef K,
Qualms,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Young Rascals,
Ludus,
The Zeros,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Nick Fraelich,
Colin Newman,
Gang Gang Dance,
David Bowie,
X-Ray Spex,
the Association,
The Music Machine,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Fall,
The Mojo Men,
Interpol,
8 Eyed Spy,
Slick Rick,
Moby Grape,
Skaos,
Fela Kuti,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pierre Henry,
Anthony Braxton,
Michelle Simonal,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ossler,
Severed Heads,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Negative Approach,
Vladislav Delay,
One Last Wish,
Kurtis Blow,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bauhaus,
Leonard Cohen,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
B.T. Express,
the Slits,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.