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 Ukraine and from Milan.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Peter and Kerry to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
ABC,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Monochrome Set,
the Bar-Kays,
the Human League,
Monolake,
Glambeats Corp.,
Letta Mbulu,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pylon,
Malaria!,
The Searchers,
Camberwell Now,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Cal Tjader,
Eden Ahbez,
The Cure,
The Buckinghams,
Stiv Bators,
Sam Rivers,
Underground Resistance,
Vladislav Delay,
Blossom Toes,
Camouflage,
Buzzcocks,
Scott Walker,
Lightning Bolt,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pussy Galore,
Lyres,
Ice-T,
Archie Shepp,
Outsiders,
Nas,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Nik Kershaw,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
John Cale,
The Music Machine,
Sun City Girls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Steve Hackett,
Trumans Water,
Aloha Tigers,
The Barracudas,
The Invisible,
Soul II Soul,
Roger Hodgson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bobby Sherman,
Black Bananas,
Japan,
Warsaw,
Procol Harum,
Funky Four + One,
The Fugs,
The Zeros,
Al Stewart,
The Electric Prunes,
The Techniques,
The Walker Brothers,
Derrick Morgan,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.