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 Haiti and from Edmonton.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Boredoms to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Eli Mardock,
Mars,
Delta 5,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bush Tetras,
The Music Machine,
Inner City,
Depeche Mode,
Robert Wyatt,
Roger Hodgson,
Main Source,
Blancmange,
Sixth Finger,
Davy DMX,
Eric Dolphy,
Robert Hood,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Marine Girls,
Reagan Youth,
Radiopuhelimet,
Essential Logic,
Mary Jane Girls,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Procol Harum,
Traffic Nightmare,
David Bowie,
Agent Orange,
The New Christs,
The Wake,
Sister Nancy,
Peter and Kerry,
Tommy Roe,
Sexual Harrassment,
Soft Cell,
John Lydon,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Misunderstood,
Cluster,
Gang Starr,
Sparks,
Saccharine Trust,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Crooked Eye,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Severed Heads,
Suicide,
The Slits,
Intrusion,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jawbox,
Hashim,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sex Pistols,
Moebius,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Foxx,
Althea and Donna,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.