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 United States and from Taipei.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the guitar 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 Gregory Isaacs to the crunk 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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Groovy Waters 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Ten City,
CMW,
Eric Dolphy,
Ronan,
Bluetip,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Remains,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Offenders,
Delon & Dalcan,
La Düsseldorf,
Sister Nancy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wolf Eyes,
John Foxx,
Roxette,
Smog,
Tomorrow,
the Association,
Sandy B,
Amon Düül,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Zeros,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Excepter,
Thompson Twins,
Malaria!,
E-Dancer,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Stiv Bators,
Outsiders,
Ornette Coleman,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Dirtbombs,
Crispian St. Peters,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Deadbeat,
Subhumans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Faust,
Dennis Brown,
Camouflage,
Groovy Waters,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Infiniti,
Bootsy Collins,
Slave,
Magma,
Gregory Isaacs,
Make Up,
Warren Ellis,
Michelle Simonal,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Germs,
Hasil Adkins,
Marcia Griffiths,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.