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 Iceland and from Beijing.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Marine Girls to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Offenders,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pere Ubu,
Supertramp,
Amon Düül II,
Marvin Gaye,
Half Japanese,
Oneida,
the Fania All-Stars,
Whodini,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marmalade,
Icehouse,
Index,
Deepchord,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Blues Magoos,
Aural Exciters,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Young Rascals,
UT,
The Associates,
The Move,
The Dirtbombs,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Fall,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
These Immortal Souls,
Liliput,
E-Dancer,
Joe Smooth,
Fluxion,
Altered Images,
Public Enemy,
KRS-One,
John Lydon,
Janne Schatter,
Bobby Byrd,
Fear,
The Tremeloes,
Amon Düül,
Glambeats Corp.,
Carl Craig,
The Fuzztones,
Q and Not U,
The Slackers,
Desert Stars,
Tim Buckley,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Grey Daturas,
Bobby Hutcherson,
John Foxx,
Shoche,
the Normal,
Boz Scaggs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Evens,
Cecil Taylor,
The Trojans,
John Cale,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.