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 Sudan and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 These Immortal Souls to the disco 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 Q and Not U. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye 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 an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Second Layer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Stockholm Monsters,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Wings,
The Gories,
Marvin Gaye,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Don Cherry,
Scratch Acid,
The New Christs,
David Bowie,
Alison Limerick,
Depeche Mode,
LL Cool J,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Schoolly D,
The Skatalites,
The Cure,
the Soft Cell,
The Blues Magoos,
The Move,
Idris Muhammad,
Mandrill,
Janne Schatter,
Roger Hodgson,
Cecil Taylor,
Intrusion,
Bob Dylan,
Marc Almond,
Alphaville,
Blake Baxter,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Last Poets,
Fela Kuti,
Juan Atkins,
ABBA,
Patti Smith,
Metal Thangz,
Rod Modell,
Television,
Ralphi Rosario,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Inner City,
Susan Cadogan,
Visage,
Monks,
Joensuu 1685,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Red Krayola,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
This Heat,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Unrelated Segments,
Aaron Thompson,
Accadde A,
Sparks,
Outsiders,
Rotary Connection,
The Moleskins,
Ice-T,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.