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 Congo and from Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Scott Walker to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Patti Smith,
Todd Terry,
Sight & Sound,
The Pretty Things,
Newcleus,
Inner City,
Crispian St. Peters,
Duran Duran,
Guru Guru,
The Grass Roots,
Blossom Toes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ultimate Spinach,
Radio Birdman,
Crash Course in Science,
Sound Behaviour,
the Bar-Kays,
The Pop Group,
Marcia Griffiths,
Anakelly,
Juan Atkins,
Yusef Lateef,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Barrington Levy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Sonics,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Mary Jane Girls,
X-101,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
John Coltrane,
Nico,
The Standells,
Lou Christie,
Don Cherry,
Motorama,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eric Dolphy,
The Sound,
Whodini,
Bush Tetras,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jacques Brel,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Warren Ellis,
Outsiders,
La Düsseldorf,
Howard Jones,
cv313,
Wolf Eyes,
Kaleidoscope,
OOIOO,
Livin' Joy,
The Skatalites,
Soft Cell,
Ossler,
Roy Ayers,
Jerry's Kids,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Television,
Sonic Youth,
Porter Ricks,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.