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 Burkina and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 David Bowie 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 Spandau Ballet to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
Crime,
Masters at Work,
Harpers Bizarre,
Aaron Thompson,
Graham Central Station,
Bauhaus,
Jeru the Damaja,
T. Rex,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bill Near,
Audionom,
Skriet,
Accadde A,
Hasil Adkins,
Lou Christie,
the Germs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Maurizio,
E-Dancer,
Clear Light,
Television Personalities,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eric Copeland,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Soul Sonic Force,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nils Olav,
The Kinks,
Neil Young,
Swell Maps,
Stetsasonic,
MC5,
Chrome,
Eddi Front,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
8 Eyed Spy,
Black Sheep,
Con Funk Shun,
Lebanon Hanover,
Angry Samoans,
The Misunderstood,
Average White Band,
Vladislav Delay,
Fat Boys,
The Fugs,
Alison Limerick,
The Mummies,
Dark Day,
CMW,
The Pop Group,
Qualms,
Tres Demented,
Mad Mike,
The Standells,
Juan Atkins,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nas,
Pagans,
Lindisfarne,
Motorama,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Radio Birdman,
Marine Girls,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.