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 Korea North and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 oboe 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 Neil Young 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 Nas. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
The Stooges,
Dennis Brown,
Vladislav Delay,
Crispy Ambulance,
Banda Bassotti,
Harpers Bizarre,
CMW,
Aloha Tigers,
Gabor Szabo,
Jacob Miller,
Camberwell Now,
Can,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Last Poets,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bang On A Can,
Cymande,
Rosa Yemen,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Leonard Cohen,
The Red Krayola,
The Toasters,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ohio Players,
B.T. Express,
Simply Red,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Qualms,
ABC,
Todd Terry,
Mr. Review,
The Real Kids,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Nico,
Minor Threat,
Ken Boothe,
Joey Negro,
the Bar-Kays,
Mission of Burma,
The Barracudas,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Hot Snakes,
Tropical Tobacco,
Masters at Work,
Gang Green,
The Beau Brummels,
Jawbox,
The Gap Band,
48th St. Collective,
Warren Ellis,
Motorama,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pere Ubu,
Echospace,
Erykah Badu,
Fatback Band,
Derrick Morgan,
Y Pants,
MDC,
Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz.
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.