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 Saudi Arabia and from Tehran.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ultra Naté to the techno 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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Average White Band,
The Remains,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Prince Buster,
Judy Mowatt,
The Fire Engines,
The Happenings,
Mr. Review,
Grauzone,
Unwound,
Babytalk,
Pet Shop Boys,
Franke,
Bill Wells,
Dead Boys,
The Offenders,
the Association,
Robert Görl,
Stockholm Monsters,
Wolf Eyes,
The Zeros,
The Kinks,
The Human League,
Faraquet,
Magma,
Amon Düül II,
Charles Mingus,
Idris Muhammad,
The Cramps,
Black Moon,
Goldenarms,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Mojo Men,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
This Heat,
Mark Hollis,
Clear Light,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
In Retrospect,
MDC,
Aswad,
Derrick May,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sister Nancy,
Godley & Creme,
Outsiders,
Newcleus,
Moebius,
Althea and Donna,
Shuggie Otis,
Moss Icon,
The Velvet Underground,
Girls At Our Best!,
K-Klass,
Reuben Wilson,
The Smiths,
Brass Construction,
Fugazi,
The Pretty Things,
The Beau Brummels,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.