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 Morocco and from Shanghai.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 sitar 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 Camberwell Now to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Electric Prunes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Radio Birdman,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lakeside,
JFA,
Simply Red,
Joy Division,
Robert Wyatt,
Maleditus Sound,
The Names,
Tears for Fears,
David McCallum,
Siglo XX,
Henry Cow,
Ralphi Rosario,
John Cale,
Sex Pistols,
The Move,
The Dirtbombs,
Janne Schatter,
Dawn Penn,
The Fuzztones,
These Immortal Souls,
The Sound,
Dark Day,
Prince Buster,
The Modern Lovers,
Amon Düül II,
Rites of Spring,
Nick Fraelich,
Porter Ricks,
The Human League,
Minutemen,
the Fania All-Stars,
Matthew Bourne,
Peter and Kerry,
Visage,
Oneida,
Fear,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jesper Dahlback,
Tommy Roe,
Camouflage,
Pagans,
Rod Modell,
Soul II Soul,
Blake Baxter,
The Litter,
Bobby Byrd,
Amazonics,
Negative Approach,
The Young Rascals,
Joensuu 1685,
Carl Craig,
Amon Düül,
Sällskapet,
The Velvet Underground,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.