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 India and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and London.
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 guitar 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roger Hodgson,
Maurizio,
The Smiths,
Dawn Penn,
Absolute Body Control,
Kerrie Biddell,
Smog,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
X-102,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Harmonia,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Newcleus,
Suburban Knight,
Severed Heads,
The Last Poets,
Glenn Branca,
Lalann,
Pantaleimon,
Make Up,
The Modern Lovers,
Marcia Griffiths,
Deakin,
Hoover,
Lalo Schifrin,
Delon & Dalcan,
Inner City,
Funky Four + One,
The Electric Prunes,
Mark Hollis,
One Last Wish,
The Evens,
The Dave Clark Five,
June of 44,
Tom Boy,
Pylon,
Sugar Minott,
Zero Boys,
Tubeway Army,
Arthur Verocai,
Joy Division,
DJ Style,
Peter & Gordon,
Half Japanese,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Radio Birdman,
The Index,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pere Ubu,
Bob Dylan,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mars,
48th St. Collective,
Lebanon Hanover,
Matthew Bourne,
These Immortal Souls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Altered Images,
The Wake,
Sex Pistols,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.