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 Vietnam and from Calgary.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Residents to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Lindisfarne,
Severed Heads,
John Cale,
Black Sheep,
Cecil Taylor,
X-102,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sandy B,
cv313,
The American Breed,
Soul II Soul,
China Crisis,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gang of Four,
Pole,
Electric Prunes,
Marine Girls,
Peter & Gordon,
Magma,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Harry Pussy,
Gastr Del Sol,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Dead C,
Tears for Fears,
Rapeman,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bad Manners,
Ponytail,
Davy DMX,
Traffic Nightmare,
Vladislav Delay,
Faust,
Banda Bassotti,
Yaz,
Peter and Kerry,
Circle Jerks,
New Age Steppers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Intrusion,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Skriet,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kevin Saunderson,
Letta Mbulu,
Boogie Down Productions,
Dorothy Ashby,
The J.B.'s,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Joe Smooth,
Mantronix,
Pulsallama,
Graham Central Station,
Accadde A,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.