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 Sri Lanka and from Bremen.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ituana to the dance 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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Leonard Cohen,
Cluster,
Soulsonic Force,
The Human League,
Bauhaus,
Animal Collective,
U.S. Maple,
Das Ding,
Kenny Larkin,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Franke,
Liliput,
Hoover,
Black Pus,
The Wake,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Neon Judgement,
K-Klass,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Blackbyrds,
Barbara Tucker,
Minny Pops,
Faraquet,
Suicide,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jandek,
Black Sheep,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fela Kuti,
T.S.O.L.,
La Düsseldorf,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Country Joe & The Fish,
10cc,
Loose Ends,
Black Flag,
The Dirtbombs,
Laurel Aitken,
The Fugs,
This Heat,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gastr Del Sol,
Stiv Bators,
Peter and Kerry,
Excepter,
The Cure,
Motorama,
Bang On A Can,
Easy Going,
Niagra,
Masters at Work,
Judy Mowatt,
Fugazi,
Lightning Bolt,
Bush Tetras,
H. Thieme,
Urselle,
Gichy Dan,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.