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 Vanuatu and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 chamberlin 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 Sex Pistols to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
The Knickerbockers,
Country Teasers,
Animal Collective,
Mandrill,
The Trojans,
Livin' Joy,
L. Decosne,
The Velvet Underground,
Gabor Szabo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mission of Burma,
Rosa Yemen,
Judy Mowatt,
Ken Boothe,
Alison Limerick,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Yazoo,
The Young Rascals,
T. Rex,
D'Angelo,
Leonard Cohen,
the Germs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Quando Quango,
Nation of Ulysses,
Robert Hood,
Buzzcocks,
Kurtis Blow,
Crash Course in Science,
Henry Cow,
Crooked Eye,
Adolescents,
Ultravox,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Camberwell Now,
The Seeds,
FM Einheit,
These Immortal Souls,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Moleskins,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cal Tjader,
Radiohead,
Eric B and Rakim,
Agent Orange,
Metal Thangz,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Warsaw,
Matthew Bourne,
Joensuu 1685,
Girls At Our Best!,
Depeche Mode,
Warren Ellis,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Detroit Cobras,
David McCallum,
Grey Daturas,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart.
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.