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 Georgia 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ronnie Foster to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Eddi Front,
Procol Harum,
Wally Richardson,
Wings,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Fuzztones,
Derrick May,
Technova,
Alison Limerick,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Joey Negro,
Jerry's Kids,
Hot Snakes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Slave,
The Wake,
Bush Tetras,
Niagra,
The Victims,
The Modern Lovers,
Gang Starr,
Ultra Naté,
Flash Fearless,
Donny Hathaway,
K-Klass,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Moody Blues,
Masters at Work,
Joyce Sims,
DJ Style,
Warsaw,
Porter Ricks,
Magazine,
Fear,
The Young Rascals,
Unrelated Segments,
B.T. Express,
The Saints,
John Cale,
Ten City,
Metal Thangz,
Black Flag,
Flipper,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bobby Womack,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Albert Ayler,
Eric B and Rakim,
Eric Copeland,
Rites of Spring,
The Gun Club,
Smog,
Jeff Lynne,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Stiv Bators,
Sugar Minott,
The Black Dice,
Cymande,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Wasted Youth,
The Cure,
Index,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.