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 Eritrea 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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Residents to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill 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 guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pet Shop Boys,
Iggy Pop,
Bill Wells,
The Happenings,
Soft Machine,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Interpol,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nik Kershaw,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Hoover,
Loose Ends,
E-Dancer,
The Tremeloes,
Aural Exciters,
Throbbing Gristle,
Donald Byrd,
Scratch Acid,
Rufus Thomas,
Barbara Tucker,
Jacques Brel,
Deepchord,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Eve St. Jones,
Gang Starr,
Pharoah Sanders,
a-ha,
The Doors,
the Fania All-Stars,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Al Stewart,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Joensuu 1685,
Agitation Free,
Scan 7,
The Buckinghams,
Deadbeat,
Man Eating Sloth,
Tim Buckley,
Don Cherry,
Neu!,
Avey Tare,
Mars,
Marc Almond,
Black Flag,
Oblivians,
The Pretty Things,
MC5,
The Birthday Party,
Kenny Larkin,
Grandmaster Flash,
Roger Hodgson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lebanon Hanover,
ABBA,
Warsaw,
Judy Mowatt,
The Doobie Brothers,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.