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 Palau and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Jakarta.
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 clarinet 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 Rosa Yemen to the funk 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 The Trojans. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
E-Dancer,
Spandau Ballet,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Offenders,
Traffic Nightmare,
Hot Snakes,
Boz Scaggs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Misunderstood,
Fugazi,
The Index,
Mandrill,
Fatback Band,
Echospace,
Soft Cell,
Kenny Larkin,
The United States of America,
Marvin Gaye,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lungfish,
Ronan,
Glenn Branca,
Prince Buster,
Johnny Clarke,
Bluetip,
Kas Product,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
DNA,
John Holt,
Suicide,
Infiniti,
The Busters,
Sexual Harrassment,
Judy Mowatt,
Supertramp,
Blake Baxter,
Interpol,
Arthur Verocai,
June Days,
The Kinks,
Liliput,
The Buckinghams,
Quadrant,
Wasted Youth,
Surgeon,
Josef K,
the Soft Cell,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Metal Thangz,
Panda Bear,
Agent Orange,
Make Up,
Minnie Riperton,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
10cc,
Don Cherry,
David Bowie,
Khruangbin,
Iggy Pop,
Anthony Braxton,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.