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 St Lucia and from Paris.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin 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 Tears for Fears to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 JFA. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Reuben Wilson,
Flipper,
Anthony Braxton,
Neil Young,
Sandy B,
Hoover,
Bauhaus,
The Martian,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fear,
Main Source,
John Holt,
CMW,
The Fugs,
June of 44,
Accadde A,
Section 25,
Drexciya,
Eddi Front,
The Trojans,
The Pretty Things,
The Stooges,
New York Dolls,
Adolescents,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Graham Central Station,
Rites of Spring,
Kenny Larkin,
The Selecter,
The Remains,
Minny Pops,
Eyeless In Gaza,
A Certain Ratio,
The Tremeloes,
Wings,
Babytalk,
Soft Machine,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pylon,
Jerry's Kids,
The American Breed,
Eric Dolphy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Searchers,
The Five Americans,
Underground Resistance,
Average White Band,
The Cramps,
Sex Pistols,
The Moleskins,
Matthew Halsall,
Scott Walker,
The Raincoats,
Grauzone,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
T.S.O.L.,
Tres Demented,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.