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 Switzerland and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 synthesizer 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 The Smoke to the electroclash 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Skaos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rotary Connection,
Pole,
The Motions,
Porter Ricks,
Bang On A Can,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Trojans,
Dennis Brown,
Chris Corsano,
The Toasters,
Cecil Taylor,
Hoover,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
MDC,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Urselle,
the Bar-Kays,
The Techniques,
Average White Band,
Deakin,
Godley & Creme,
Mo-Dettes,
Whodini,
Eric Copeland,
The Names,
Jawbox,
Soft Machine,
Spoonie Gee,
Fela Kuti,
Henry Cow,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Drexciya,
Intrusion,
Au Pairs,
Rhythm & Sound,
PIL,
Lindisfarne,
Rapeman,
Curtis Mayfield,
Wire,
Kas Product,
The Fire Engines,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Oneida,
Moebius,
Robert Hood,
Public Image Ltd.,
Archie Shepp,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sun City Girls,
Yazoo,
The Monks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Country Teasers,
Marc Almond,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
H. Thieme,
Maleditus Sound,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.