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 Mauritius and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 808 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 Half Japanese to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Quadrant. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Durutti Column,
Alton Ellis,
Tomorrow,
Nik Kershaw,
Ultra Naté,
Duran Duran,
Fear,
Little Man,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Gun Club,
Harpers Bizarre,
Agent Orange,
Accadde A,
Albert Ayler,
Frankie Knuckles,
Althea and Donna,
Gregory Isaacs,
Electric Prunes,
Rakim,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Animal Collective,
Quando Quango,
Clear Light,
Warren Ellis,
The Gories,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pulsallama,
Black Bananas,
Franke,
Rekid,
Deakin,
Bad Manners,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bush Tetras,
Susan Cadogan,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Andrew Hill,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pierre Henry,
Barrington Levy,
The Pop Group,
The Misunderstood,
The Seeds,
Gang Green,
Schoolly D,
Sister Nancy,
8 Eyed Spy,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Fortunes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Boredoms,
Altered Images,
Soft Cell,
The Litter,
Gabor Szabo,
Jacob Miller,
Eric Copeland,
The Pretty Things,
Heaven 17,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.