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 United States and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Spokane.
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 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 The Standells to the dance 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 Colin Newman. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funky Four + One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Swell Maps,
T. Rex,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sex Pistols,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
cv313,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Organ,
Y Pants,
June Days,
Black Pus,
The Busters,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Althea and Donna,
Rufus Thomas,
The Techniques,
The Fall,
Tomorrow,
Lungfish,
the Association,
Andrew Hill,
Chris Corsano,
Dennis Brown,
Cameo,
ABC,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Black Sheep,
Don Cherry,
Pylon,
Amazonics,
Pantytec,
The Gun Club,
Brass Construction,
Average White Band,
The Moleskins,
Mission of Burma,
Robert Hood,
Joyce Sims,
Morten Harket,
Funky Four + One,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Arab on Radar,
Los Fastidios,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bill Near,
In Retrospect,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lalo Schifrin,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Oneida,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Gladiators,
Patti Smith,
Danielle Patucci,
Depeche Mode,
The Saints,
Crash Course in Science,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.