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 Syria and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 güiro 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 Essential Logic to the grunge 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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The New Christs,
Ken Boothe,
Ronnie Foster,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lightning Bolt,
Youth Brigade,
Cal Tjader,
Black Sheep,
Dead Boys,
Marshall Jefferson,
Harry Pussy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Surgeon,
Peter and Kerry,
China Crisis,
Joe Smooth,
Bauhaus,
Interpol,
Lyres,
Vainqueur,
Stereo Dub,
the Association,
Neil Young,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Moody Blues,
Radio Birdman,
Bronski Beat,
Soul Sonic Force,
Outsiders,
Little Man,
The Fortunes,
Todd Terry,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Maurizio,
Patti Smith,
kango's stein massive,
Sight & Sound,
Underground Resistance,
Aloha Tigers,
Rosa Yemen,
Wolf Eyes,
Jeff Lynne,
U.S. Maple,
Spoonie Gee,
The Pretty Things,
The Walker Brothers,
Rekid,
The Black Dice,
Nik Kershaw,
June of 44,
Slave,
Black Flag,
Pulsallama,
The Barracudas,
Al Stewart,
Sam Rivers,
The Fall,
Curtis Mayfield,
Das Ding,
The Dave Clark Five,
Hashim,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.