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 Congo and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 kango's stein massive 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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s 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 Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Barclay James Harvest,
Altered Images,
Y Pants,
Deadbeat,
The Cramps,
The Moody Blues,
Young Marble Giants,
Amon Düül II,
Hashim,
Skarface,
The Dave Clark Five,
the Bar-Kays,
The Dirtbombs,
Mad Mike,
Country Teasers,
Shoche,
The Motions,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Grey Daturas,
Eve St. Jones,
The Trojans,
Kaleidoscope,
T. Rex,
EPMD,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Goldenarms,
Agitation Free,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Interpol,
Make Up,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nik Kershaw,
Johnny Clarke,
Thompson Twins,
Ossler,
Brick,
Stetsasonic,
Rufus Thomas,
The J.B.'s,
The Stooges,
The Gladiators,
Groovy Waters,
The Pretty Things,
Intrusion,
Dead Boys,
Ornette Coleman,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Grauzone,
the Soft Cell,
Bobby Byrd,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pantytec,
Junior Murvin,
The Slackers,
Moby Grape,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.