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 Indonesia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Malaria! to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oblivians record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Clear Light,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The American Breed,
Wasted Youth,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Minnie Riperton,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Cheater Slicks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Sonics,
Isaac Hayes,
Brick,
The Golliwogs,
DJ Style,
Pagans,
Eden Ahbez,
The Fortunes,
Lightning Bolt,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Supertramp,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Buckinghams,
The Velvet Underground,
Maurizio,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Black Dice,
The Cure,
The Cowsills,
Charles Mingus,
Jandek,
One Last Wish,
Pantaleimon,
La Düsseldorf,
Bootsy Collins,
Flamin' Groovies,
Erasure,
Reagan Youth,
Freddie Wadling,
The Alarm Clocks,
Make Up,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Roger Hodgson,
The Remains,
Dual Sessions,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bronski Beat,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Deadbeat,
The Monochrome Set,
Main Source,
The Offenders,
Von Mondo,
Public Enemy,
The Motions,
Don Cherry,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Mad Mike,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Radio Birdman,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.