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 Indonesia and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Blancmange to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Brand Nubian,
Connie Case,
Moby Grape,
Soulsonic Force,
Kas Product,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
La Düsseldorf,
Excepter,
48th St. Collective,
Parry Music,
The Busters,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Bauhaus,
Robert Hood,
The Associates,
The Count Five,
Bad Manners,
Urselle,
Saccharine Trust,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Desert Stars,
New York Dolls,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Smog,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Neon Judgement,
Groovy Waters,
Hoover,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Human League,
The Martian,
Can,
Traffic Nightmare,
Crime,
Cal Tjader,
June Days,
Nas,
Barry Ungar,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sonic Youth,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Wolf Eyes,
Hot Snakes,
Y Pants,
Loose Ends,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Marc Almond,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Echospace,
Freddie Wadling,
Scientists,
Grey Daturas,
Whodini,
Joensuu 1685,
Minor Threat,
B.T. Express,
Bush Tetras,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.