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 Congo and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Salvador.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
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 Crooked Eye to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Kinks. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar 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 Fugs,
Robert Hood,
The Gap Band,
Radio Birdman,
The Cowsills,
Prince Buster,
Warren Ellis,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sam Rivers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Slave,
Leonard Cohen,
Byron Stingily,
ABBA,
Suicide,
Marine Girls,
Pierre Henry,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Shuggie Otis,
Icehouse,
Crime,
Rod Modell,
Lightning Bolt,
Gang Gang Dance,
Amon Düül,
Infiniti,
Yellowson,
Neil Young,
Cymande,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tubeway Army,
The Blues Magoos,
the Soft Cell,
Flamin' Groovies,
PIL,
Maleditus Sound,
Outsiders,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ronnie Foster,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Darondo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Selecter,
Pulsallama,
Bobby Womack,
Buzzcocks,
Letta Mbulu,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
David McCallum,
Scion,
Mark Hollis,
a-ha,
The Residents,
Tears for Fears,
Davy DMX,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sällskapet,
Spandau Ballet,
Todd Terry,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.