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 Bahrain and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 arpeggiator 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 New York Dolls to the crunk 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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish 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?
The Pretty Things,
The Misunderstood,
Johnny Clarke,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Neil Young,
Hardrive,
The Techniques,
Basic Channel,
The Dirtbombs,
Los Fastidios,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Suicide,
Thee Headcoats,
Malaria!,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Offenders,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Amazonics,
Lindisfarne,
Kool Moe Dee,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pylon,
Black Sheep,
8 Eyed Spy,
H. Thieme,
June Days,
Todd Rundgren,
Erasure,
EPMD,
Japan,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Tomorrow,
Avey Tare,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Subhumans,
Boz Scaggs,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Supertramp,
Deadbeat,
The Young Rascals,
Gregory Isaacs,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fat Boys,
The New Christs,
Faraquet,
Dave Gahan,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rufus Thomas,
The Beau Brummels,
The Gun Club,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Skarface,
Harry Pussy,
Accadde A,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Mandrill,
Aswad,
Flamin' Groovies,
Average White Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.