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 Grenada and from Houston.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Saints to the grunge 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jandek 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 harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bizarre Inc. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
The Buckinghams,
Soft Machine,
New Order,
Joyce Sims,
Spoonie Gee,
David Bowie,
Bob Dylan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Robert Görl,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ituana,
The Dead C,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Cluster,
Marshall Jefferson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Nick Fraelich,
Barrington Levy,
Minor Threat,
Accadde A,
Man Eating Sloth,
Stetsasonic,
Tubeway Army,
Lebanon Hanover,
Fugazi,
Soulsonic Force,
Alice Coltrane,
Porter Ricks,
Pylon,
Wasted Youth,
Freddie Wadling,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Main Source,
Nirvana,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ten City,
These Immortal Souls,
John Foxx,
Quadrant,
Zero Boys,
Alison Limerick,
Max Romeo,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Funky Four + One,
Aswad,
The Velvet Underground,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Fuzztones,
Jacques Brel,
Leonard Cohen,
Jeru the Damaja,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Model 500,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Public Enemy,
The Index,
Unrelated Segments,
Gastr Del Sol,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter.
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.