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 Comoros and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 oboe 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 T.S.O.L. to the grunge 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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
Qualms,
Kerrie Biddell,
Morten Harket,
Absolute Body Control,
T.S.O.L.,
Marshall Jefferson,
Tears for Fears,
The Residents,
Pantaleimon,
Mary Jane Girls,
Intrusion,
The Velvet Underground,
Lightning Bolt,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Golliwogs,
Talk Talk,
Wolf Eyes,
Niagra,
Crash Course in Science,
H. Thieme,
Angry Samoans,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Barbara Tucker,
The Selecter,
8 Eyed Spy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Blossom Toes,
10cc,
Brothers Johnson,
Idris Muhammad,
Smog,
Tres Demented,
John Holt,
The Standells,
Quantec,
Eddi Front,
The Offenders,
New Age Steppers,
Cecil Taylor,
The Monochrome Set,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nils Olav,
Magazine,
Lyres,
Tommy Roe,
The Blackbyrds,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Skriet,
Scion,
Nas,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Derrick May,
Delon & Dalcan,
D'Angelo,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lindisfarne,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.