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 Qatar and from Lille.
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 London and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Parry Music to the dance 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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eyeless In Gaza record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Fatback Band,
Barrington Levy,
Mantronix,
Sonic Youth,
Flamin' Groovies,
The United States of America,
Eden Ahbez,
The Gories,
Alison Limerick,
The Zeros,
Niagra,
Aswad,
Khruangbin,
Oblivians,
Boz Scaggs,
Tom Boy,
Radiohead,
Sällskapet,
Boogie Down Productions,
Monks,
Mars,
Aural Exciters,
Rekid,
La Düsseldorf,
Angry Samoans,
Unrelated Segments,
Crash Course in Science,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Human League,
ABBA,
Slave,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Music Machine,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Detroit Cobras,
Wings,
Graham Central Station,
Toni Rubio,
The Blues Magoos,
Spandau Ballet,
Accadde A,
Harry Pussy,
Qualms,
Marvin Gaye,
Magma,
Japan,
Matthew Bourne,
Donny Hathaway,
The Flesh Eaters,
Organ,
Gabor Szabo,
Radio Birdman,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lightning Bolt,
Black Moon,
Panda Bear,
Juan Atkins,
The Last Poets,
Procol Harum,
Neu!,
Marc Almond,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.