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 Panama and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 marimba 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 Curtis Mayfield to the grime 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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Cymande,
David Axelrod,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gabor Szabo,
Marine Girls,
Heaven 17,
Newcleus,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Wire,
Cheater Slicks,
Circle Jerks,
Roy Ayers,
Donald Byrd,
Bad Manners,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Residents,
Rapeman,
Andrew Hill,
The Stooges,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
China Crisis,
Throbbing Gristle,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Agitation Free,
Ten City,
EPMD,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mad Mike,
Donny Hathaway,
Mandrill,
The Knickerbockers,
Absolute Body Control,
Oneida,
Tubeway Army,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Gun Club,
The Divine Comedy,
Metal Thangz,
Trumans Water,
Fluxion,
Skaos,
Darondo,
Lucky Dragons,
Whodini,
Franke,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mo-Dettes,
The Neon Judgement,
Colin Newman,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Public Enemy,
Saccharine Trust,
The Red Krayola,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Hasil Adkins,
Sun City Girls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Au Pairs,
B.T. Express,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.