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 Cyprus and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 linndrum 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 Albert Ayler to the techno 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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultramagnetic MC's record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marcia Griffiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
cv313,
Porter Ricks,
The Seeds,
Lower 48,
Radio Birdman,
EPMD,
The Doors,
Underground Resistance,
The Move,
The Detroit Cobras,
Roy Ayers,
Buzzcocks,
Lou Christie,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Blackbyrds,
The Real Kids,
New Age Steppers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Wire,
Easy Going,
Black Flag,
Deadbeat,
KRS-One,
Kurtis Blow,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Fall,
The Martian,
Eve St. Jones,
Heaven 17,
Cal Tjader,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bobbi Humphrey,
L. Decosne,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ludus,
Iggy Pop,
David Axelrod,
Graham Central Station,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Moss Icon,
The Evens,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
UT,
Lungfish,
Desert Stars,
Bobby Sherman,
Avey Tare,
Suburban Knight,
Sparks,
Spandau Ballet,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tommy Roe,
The Searchers,
Cameo,
Bobby Byrd,
Sex Pistols,
The Count Five,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Alton Ellis,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.