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 Liberia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 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 Pere Ubu to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unrelated Segments record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
The Last Poets,
Nirvana,
Max Romeo,
Lebanon Hanover,
Magma,
Circle Jerks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Blancmange,
The Toasters,
Simply Red,
Robert Wyatt,
a-ha,
In Retrospect,
Tom Boy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Funky Four + One,
Little Man,
Urselle,
Glenn Branca,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Brick,
The Velvet Underground,
Dead Boys,
Scrapy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
B.T. Express,
ABBA,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Vladislav Delay,
Television Personalities,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Sheep,
Rufus Thomas,
Sun City Girls,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Desert Stars,
Pantaleimon,
Interpol,
Barbara Tucker,
Sexual Harrassment,
Quando Quango,
Bill Wells,
The Offenders,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pussy Galore,
Piero Umiliani,
The Fall,
Arab on Radar,
David Axelrod,
Tommy Roe,
Quantec,
The Selecter,
Ohio Players,
Boz Scaggs,
Pere Ubu,
Cymande,
Dark Day,
Al Stewart,
Smog,
Minutemen,
Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade.
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.