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 Macedonia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Scientists to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Cramps. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Raincoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Audionom record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
Scientists,
Matthew Halsall,
Sam Rivers,
Parry Music,
The Smoke,
Scrapy,
Pussy Galore,
Amon Düül II,
Bill Near,
Marcia Griffiths,
Swell Maps,
Robert Hood,
Anthony Braxton,
The New Christs,
T. Rex,
Sixth Finger,
Janne Schatter,
Brass Construction,
Q and Not U,
Nik Kershaw,
The Gun Club,
Kurtis Blow,
Warren Ellis,
Bobby Womack,
The Mummies,
The Golliwogs,
The Moleskins,
The Black Dice,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Fire Engines,
The Moody Blues,
Tears for Fears,
Subhumans,
The Searchers,
Barbara Tucker,
The Saints,
The Music Machine,
Hardrive,
The Cramps,
The Martian,
U.S. Maple,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sparks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lalo Schifrin,
Interpol,
H. Thieme,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Altered Images,
Angry Samoans,
The Techniques,
Marmalade,
DNA,
Blossom Toes,
Half Japanese,
Cecil Taylor,
Robert Görl,
the Association,
Bob Dylan,
David Axelrod,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.