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 El Salvador and from Salvador.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Camouflage to the dance 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
Groovy Waters,
Freddie Wadling,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Blossom Toes,
The Names,
Yellowson,
Drexciya,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Theoretical Girls,
Stetsasonic,
Marvin Gaye,
Johnny Clarke,
Bang On A Can,
Sex Pistols,
Mars,
The Gun Club,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Joyce Sims,
Ronnie Foster,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Last Poets,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Flash Fearless,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Prince Buster,
Howard Jones,
Delta 5,
Quantec,
Ultra Naté,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pierre Henry,
Make Up,
Aloha Tigers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Grauzone,
The Techniques,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Harry Pussy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
ABC,
Magazine,
Bronski Beat,
Loose Ends,
Pulsallama,
Suburban Knight,
Depeche Mode,
Clear Light,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Joensuu 1685,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Motions,
Matthew Bourne,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Leaves,
The Fugs,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Mojo Men,
The Gap Band,
Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol.
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.