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 Jordan and from Houston.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Smog to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
James White and The Blacks,
Hashim,
Cybotron,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Public Enemy,
KRS-One,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Morten Harket,
Cheater Slicks,
Juan Atkins,
Sam Rivers,
Q and Not U,
The Pop Group,
Neu!,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Aloha Tigers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bill Wells,
Gil Scott Heron,
Scion,
The Kinks,
Make Up,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Malaria!,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kool Moe Dee,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Barclay James Harvest,
Intrusion,
Severed Heads,
Piero Umiliani,
Graham Central Station,
Procol Harum,
The Litter,
Amon Düül II,
Model 500,
Pere Ubu,
Sun City Girls,
Warren Ellis,
The Alarm Clocks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Monochrome Set,
Tim Buckley,
Andrew Hill,
Freddie Wadling,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Scrapy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eve St. Jones,
Pierre Henry,
The New Christs,
Blake Baxter,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Todd Terry,
Cal Tjader,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Blackbyrds,
Tom Boy,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.