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 Switzerland and from Toronto.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 harpsichord 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 The Zeros 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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Tubeway Army,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Neu!,
Brass Construction,
Ronnie Foster,
Reuben Wilson,
Avey Tare,
Royal Trux,
The Dirtbombs,
Godley & Creme,
New Age Steppers,
Todd Terry,
Stiv Bators,
Khruangbin,
the Slits,
Harmonia,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sparks,
Wolf Eyes,
Spandau Ballet,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Suicide,
U.S. Maple,
The Red Krayola,
Joey Negro,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gang of Four,
Rotary Connection,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Aloha Tigers,
Chris & Cosey,
Chrome,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Mojo Men,
The Slits,
Technova,
Intrusion,
Interpol,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Residents,
H. Thieme,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Cameo,
Gang Green,
Make Up,
Gang Starr,
The Sound,
Minutemen,
Vainqueur,
Lakeside,
Pantytec,
Can,
Lou Christie,
These Immortal Souls,
Magma,
World's Most,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.