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 Ethiopia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 organ 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 Amazonics to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Anakelly. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Todd Terry,
Josef K,
The Mummies,
Harmonia,
Dawn Penn,
Magma,
DJ Style,
the Bar-Kays,
Tommy Roe,
Alice Coltrane,
Juan Atkins,
Glambeats Corp.,
Spandau Ballet,
Todd Rundgren,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pere Ubu,
Nick Fraelich,
Skarface,
Easy Going,
Gerry Rafferty,
The United States of America,
Rekid,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Man Parrish,
Neu!,
48th St. Collective,
The Star Department,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Crooked Eye,
Fear,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jacob Miller,
Morten Harket,
The Martian,
DNA,
Whodini,
Ohio Players,
The Pop Group,
The Smoke,
The Walker Brothers,
Guru Guru,
Alton Ellis,
Nirvana,
Soulsonic Force,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Technova,
Outsiders,
Black Pus,
Adolescents,
L. Decosne,
Lower 48,
Charles Mingus,
Radio Birdman,
Freddie Wadling,
Barbara Tucker,
Donny Hathaway,
Man Eating Sloth,
Con Funk Shun,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.