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 Tunisia and from Tokyo.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the oboe 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 Jawbox to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Wire,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Doors,
the Slits,
Mission of Burma,
Black Sheep,
The Sonics,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lindisfarne,
New Order,
Tropical Tobacco,
Tommy Roe,
Easy Going,
T. Rex,
Motorama,
Barbara Tucker,
Howard Jones,
Anakelly,
E-Dancer,
Chris & Cosey,
Outsiders,
Tim Buckley,
the Normal,
Young Marble Giants,
Piero Umiliani,
Joyce Sims,
The Saints,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Franke,
Nation of Ulysses,
Crispian St. Peters,
Basic Channel,
The Smoke,
New Age Steppers,
Dark Day,
Unrelated Segments,
Bush Tetras,
Donny Hathaway,
Wolf Eyes,
Unwound,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gang Starr,
Soft Cell,
Harmonia,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Skatalites,
Isaac Hayes,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Cramps,
Delta 5,
The Blues Magoos,
Rod Modell,
Cymande,
K-Klass,
D'Angelo,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Camouflage,
Scion,
Adolescents,
Deakin,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.