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 Ireland and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 snare 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Sisters of Mercy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Dead C,
The Neon Judgement,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Barclay James Harvest,
Crime,
Nico,
Jacques Brel,
The Sound,
Country Teasers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Alphaville,
This Heat,
Stereo Dub,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Anthony Braxton,
The Buckinghams,
Nik Kershaw,
Oneida,
Royal Trux,
X-Ray Spex,
The Modern Lovers,
Curtis Mayfield,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Warsaw,
Tommy Roe,
The Searchers,
Scan 7,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Soulsonic Force,
Public Enemy,
The Smoke,
Robert Wyatt,
Metal Thangz,
Amon Düül II,
Eric Dolphy,
New Order,
The Durutti Column,
JFA,
Todd Rundgren,
Sonny Sharrock,
Television Personalities,
The Fortunes,
Pet Shop Boys,
Barbara Tucker,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Con Funk Shun,
Sixth Finger,
Bang On A Can,
The Doobie Brothers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Brick,
Pharoah Sanders,
UT,
Gong,
Hardrive,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Steve Hackett,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.