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 Colombia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 mellotron 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 Tropical Tobacco to the dance 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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Görl record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Cybotron,
Ponytail,
La Düsseldorf,
Thompson Twins,
Monks,
MDC,
Newcleus,
The Offenders,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Can,
This Heat,
Fugazi,
The Move,
Talk Talk,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Fugs,
CMW,
AZ,
Soulsonic Force,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Slackers,
The Saints,
Visage,
Connie Case,
Gang Green,
Jandek,
Television Personalities,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Monks,
Sound Behaviour,
Zero Boys,
Harry Pussy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Warren Ellis,
Cluster,
Eric Dolphy,
Black Pus,
Public Image Ltd.,
Minutemen,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Y Pants,
Bang On A Can,
Eden Ahbez,
Yusef Lateef,
Ronnie Foster,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Masters at Work,
The Neon Judgement,
Radiohead,
Mark Hollis,
Big Daddy Kane,
Howard Jones,
Curtis Mayfield,
Quantec,
The Red Krayola,
The Vogues,
Sparks,
Drexciya,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.