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 Sudan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 marimba 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 Y Pants 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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
Roger Hodgson,
Kaleidoscope,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Severed Heads,
James White and The Blacks,
The Dead C,
EPMD,
the Swans,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Mad Mike,
Ituana,
Scientists,
Goldenarms,
K-Klass,
the Fania All-Stars,
Spoonie Gee,
Ten City,
John Lydon,
Wolf Eyes,
The Seeds,
Buzzcocks,
Charles Mingus,
Masters at Work,
Television Personalities,
Black Flag,
Marc Almond,
Matthew Halsall,
Fear,
Cal Tjader,
John Foxx,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Y Pants,
Index,
Yusef Lateef,
Max Romeo,
The American Breed,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Visage,
Lou Christie,
Ultra Naté,
Marine Girls,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gong,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
F. McDonald,
The Real Kids,
Babytalk,
Man Parrish,
Danielle Patucci,
The Neon Judgement,
Whodini,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kayak,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Faraquet,
Bauhaus,
Gang Green,
Sällskapet,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.