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 Singapore and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 snare 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 Sandy B to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Judy Mowatt,
Nik Kershaw,
The J.B.'s,
Dennis Brown,
Robert Görl,
Tomorrow,
DJ Style,
Iggy Pop,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Yusef Lateef,
Cameo,
Tres Demented,
Spoonie Gee,
Wire,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Patti Smith,
These Immortal Souls,
New Age Steppers,
Symarip,
Lower 48,
Thompson Twins,
The Stooges,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lebanon Hanover,
Harry Pussy,
The American Breed,
Glenn Branca,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Accadde A,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Golliwogs,
The Vogues,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Monks,
Gang Starr,
The Blues Magoos,
Faraquet,
L. Decosne,
Curtis Mayfield,
Easy Going,
Aloha Tigers,
kango's stein massive,
Aswad,
Neu!,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Slits,
Ultravox,
The Young Rascals,
Half Japanese,
The Detroit Cobras,
Terrestrial Tones,
Brass Construction,
Audionom,
Dave Gahan,
Steve Hackett,
Pantytec,
Con Funk Shun,
The Techniques,
Sun City Girls,
Brand Nubian,
Sparks,
Connie Case,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.