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 Belgium and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 synthesizer 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 Babytalk to the funk 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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Clear Light,
The Offenders,
Ultimate Spinach,
Nik Kershaw,
Flash Fearless,
Wally Richardson,
Country Teasers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Iggy Pop,
David Axelrod,
Procol Harum,
Cameo,
Soul II Soul,
Pussy Galore,
Little Man,
Severed Heads,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Saints,
Johnny Clarke,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Audionom,
Sister Nancy,
Amon Düül II,
Neil Young,
Lalann,
Andrew Hill,
Porter Ricks,
The Zeros,
Frankie Knuckles,
Glenn Branca,
Peter & Gordon,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Real Kids,
Second Layer,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Camberwell Now,
Howard Jones,
L. Decosne,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
cv313,
Moby Grape,
Pere Ubu,
China Crisis,
A Certain Ratio,
Animal Collective,
Eric B and Rakim,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Barbara Tucker,
Eve St. Jones,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Talk Talk,
Symarip,
Reuben Wilson,
The Fugs,
The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers.
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.