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 Turkmenistan and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Lindisfarne to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Can. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
The Busters,
H. Thieme,
The Electric Prunes,
The Gories,
The Monochrome Set,
Aaron Thompson,
The Alarm Clocks,
Visage,
Popol Vuh,
Smog,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Juan Atkins,
KRS-One,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Supertramp,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Icehouse,
The American Breed,
Sexual Harrassment,
Minnie Riperton,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Carl Craig,
Flash Fearless,
Qualms,
Connie Case,
Y Pants,
Cybotron,
The Black Dice,
Severed Heads,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
June of 44,
Lalann,
Hot Snakes,
Darondo,
Girls At Our Best!,
Symarip,
Rekid,
Soft Cell,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ice-T,
Gang Green,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Glenn Branca,
Jeru the Damaja,
Heaven 17,
Ronnie Foster,
Iggy Pop,
48th St. Collective,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Model 500,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Black Pus,
Godley & Creme,
The Dirtbombs,
Sällskapet,
Pere Ubu,
The Trojans,
Altered Images,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.