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 Serbia and from Manila.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 Soul Sonic Force to the crunk 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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Brick,
Marvin Gaye,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Fire Engines,
Rufus Thomas,
H. Thieme,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Half Japanese,
Wolf Eyes,
Junior Murvin,
Fear,
Altered Images,
FM Einheit,
Lindisfarne,
Circle Jerks,
New York Dolls,
Eurythmics,
Lyres,
Mr. Review,
The Moleskins,
Colin Newman,
Royal Trux,
David McCallum,
The Beau Brummels,
Whodini,
Stockholm Monsters,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Fania All-Stars,
Joey Negro,
Maurizio,
The Barracudas,
Crooked Eye,
Jawbox,
Joe Finger,
The Move,
Lakeside,
Amazonics,
Vladislav Delay,
Ken Boothe,
Zapp,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bauhaus,
Surgeon,
Sun Ra,
Joy Division,
B.T. Express,
Henry Cow,
The Busters,
Minor Threat,
Joyce Sims,
Scrapy,
The Modern Lovers,
Blancmange,
Davy DMX,
The Dead C,
the Human League,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.