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 Tuvalu and from Hong Kong.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the snare 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the grime 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 Victims. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Urselle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
The Remains,
New Order,
The Walker Brothers,
Soft Cell,
Quadrant,
Underground Resistance,
The Music Machine,
Pharoah Sanders,
kango's stein massive,
Brick,
Basic Channel,
The Flesh Eaters,
Saccharine Trust,
The Barracudas,
The Five Americans,
Sixth Finger,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
June of 44,
Television,
The Misunderstood,
Letta Mbulu,
Minnie Riperton,
Black Bananas,
Carl Craig,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Technova,
Black Flag,
Beasts of Bourbon,
OOIOO,
Malaria!,
Rod Modell,
Laurel Aitken,
Throbbing Gristle,
Amon Düül II,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sexual Harrassment,
Freddie Wadling,
Bang On A Can,
Graham Central Station,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The New Christs,
Young Marble Giants,
Inner City,
The Grass Roots,
Zero Boys,
Mars,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rekid,
Electric Prunes,
Eden Ahbez,
R.M.O.,
China Crisis,
The Human League,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Happenings,
Cymande,
Trumans Water,
The Searchers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Joyce Sims,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.