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 Mali and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Royal Family And The Poor to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
A Certain Ratio,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Vogues,
The Motions,
The Monks,
Nas,
Prince Buster,
The Star Department,
Icehouse,
Pantytec,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pantaleimon,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Public Enemy,
Dennis Brown,
Nick Fraelich,
Junior Murvin,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Boredoms,
Scrapy,
The American Breed,
The Smoke,
Suburban Knight,
These Immortal Souls,
The Cure,
Lou Reed,
Kool Moe Dee,
Guru Guru,
Bobby Sherman,
the Normal,
Judy Mowatt,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Depeche Mode,
Jacques Brel,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Black Dice,
Procol Harum,
Mo-Dettes,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Cluster,
Oneida,
Rufus Thomas,
Fat Boys,
Q65,
Davy DMX,
Bluetip,
Talk Talk,
Mantronix,
Swans,
The Durutti Column,
Rosa Yemen,
The Invisible,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lalann,
Chrome,
Darondo,
Jandek,
Kaleidoscope,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.