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 Morocco and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Danielle Patucci to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythim Is Rhythim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Newcleus,
Magazine,
Nation of Ulysses,
D'Angelo,
Minny Pops,
Wasted Youth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Hoover,
Marc Almond,
Howard Jones,
F. McDonald,
X-Ray Spex,
Alison Limerick,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Con Funk Shun,
Aloha Tigers,
PIL,
Model 500,
Mr. Review,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Unwound,
Wire,
Crash Course in Science,
Bush Tetras,
Quantec,
Crispian St. Peters,
Davy DMX,
Sugar Minott,
Bill Near,
Stiv Bators,
New York Dolls,
Livin' Joy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Moss Icon,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Moody Blues,
Idris Muhammad,
The Residents,
Grandmaster Flash,
Colin Newman,
Girls At Our Best!,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Amon Düül,
JFA,
The Raincoats,
Albert Ayler,
Sparks,
The Fire Engines,
Yellowson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gang Gang Dance,
Crooked Eye,
Blancmange,
This Heat,
the Association,
Metal Thangz,
Shuggie Otis,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.