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 Canada and from Woodstock.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Byron Stingily to the rap 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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Gong,
Ken Boothe,
Henry Cow,
Ash Ra Tempel,
cv313,
Quantec,
Icehouse,
Von Mondo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Index,
X-Ray Spex,
Brass Construction,
Camberwell Now,
Circle Jerks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Youth Brigade,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Pretty Things,
Michelle Simonal,
Funky Four + One,
10cc,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
DJ Sneak,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Peter and Kerry,
LL Cool J,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Happenings,
Ronnie Foster,
Gregory Isaacs,
UT,
Marmalade,
The Tremeloes,
The Dead C,
The Names,
DNA,
Amazonics,
The Searchers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Yellowson,
Hardrive,
Liliput,
Scientists,
The Shadows of Knight,
R.M.O.,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Offenders,
Yaz,
the Normal,
Moebius,
The Smiths,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
New York Dolls,
The Monks,
Ludus,
Stiv Bators,
Colin Newman,
Toni Rubio,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.