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 Palau and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Grauzone to the rock 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 The Sound. All the underground hits.
All The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association 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 güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moebius record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Avey Tare,
Y Pants,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eve St. Jones,
The Selecter,
In Retrospect,
Gil Scott Heron,
Frankie Knuckles,
Peter and Kerry,
Barry Ungar,
Swell Maps,
Dark Day,
48th St. Collective,
The Pretty Things,
Desert Stars,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Crash Course in Science,
Bootsy Collins,
Oblivians,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Music Machine,
Stetsasonic,
The Count Five,
Chris & Cosey,
Massinfluence,
Boz Scaggs,
Half Japanese,
The Toasters,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Zeros,
Byron Stingily,
Shoche,
CMW,
Erykah Badu,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Public Image Ltd.,
Warsaw,
Deadbeat,
Angry Samoans,
Eli Mardock,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
T.S.O.L.,
Theoretical Girls,
Loose Ends,
The Motions,
Yaz,
Nik Kershaw,
Delta 5,
Magazine,
Young Marble Giants,
Minny Pops,
The Names,
John Holt,
Newcleus,
Amon Düül,
Ice-T,
Ultravox,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.