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 Lithuania and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 chamberlin 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 Circle Jerks to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Franke 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Freddie Wadling record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
Janne Schatter,
Sam Rivers,
The Cowsills,
Johnny Clarke,
Sex Pistols,
Banda Bassotti,
T. Rex,
Wasted Youth,
Don Cherry,
Moss Icon,
The American Breed,
Dead Boys,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mo-Dettes,
Panda Bear,
Steve Hackett,
ABBA,
Bob Dylan,
Neu!,
EPMD,
The Stooges,
Nick Fraelich,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Walker Brothers,
The Dead C,
Sixth Finger,
Scientists,
Eve St. Jones,
Adolescents,
Soulsonic Force,
Rosa Yemen,
The Music Machine,
the Swans,
Niagra,
Chris Corsano,
Agent Orange,
Joyce Sims,
Cheater Slicks,
Moby Grape,
New York Dolls,
Ituana,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Groovy Waters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Aswad,
R.M.O.,
Harmonia,
The Associates,
Excepter,
The Martian,
Nik Kershaw,
Todd Rundgren,
Ossler,
Gastr Del Sol,
Andrew Hill,
Fad Gadget,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
China Crisis,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.