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 Indonesia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 güiro 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Toasters 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Radio Birdman,
Marshall Jefferson,
Scott Walker,
The Pop Group,
The Real Kids,
Reuben Wilson,
Sarah Menescal,
Slave,
Davy DMX,
Faust,
Matthew Halsall,
The J.B.'s,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Swell Maps,
The Divine Comedy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Half Japanese,
Monks,
Tommy Roe,
Talk Talk,
Monolake,
Ten City,
The Happenings,
the Swans,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
the Germs,
Adolescents,
F. McDonald,
Average White Band,
Quando Quango,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mo-Dettes,
Junior Murvin,
The Star Department,
AZ,
Arthur Verocai,
The Slackers,
Charles Mingus,
X-102,
Black Sheep,
Eli Mardock,
Porter Ricks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jawbox,
Eric Copeland,
The Mummies,
Joe Smooth,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Youth Brigade,
Thee Headcoats,
Aloha Tigers,
Joy Division,
Stetsasonic,
Fugazi,
Avey Tare,
Lee Hazlewood,
Carl Craig,
The Velvet Underground,
Hardrive,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.