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 Colombia and from Philadelphia.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the snare 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the funk 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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
The Gun Club,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Robert Görl,
Prince Buster,
Depeche Mode,
Aswad,
Arthur Verocai,
Ludus,
Yusef Lateef,
Blancmange,
Man Parrish,
Peter and Kerry,
James White and The Blacks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bobby Byrd,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Altered Images,
Letta Mbulu,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Swans,
The Cowsills,
Minutemen,
Bluetip,
Amazonics,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Anakelly,
Robert Hood,
Minnie Riperton,
Matthew Bourne,
Echospace,
Pharoah Sanders,
Terry Callier,
Jesper Dahlback,
Das Ding,
Lou Reed,
Roger Hodgson,
Adolescents,
The Associates,
UT,
Harpers Bizarre,
T. Rex,
Gregory Isaacs,
Davy DMX,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
H. Thieme,
Interpol,
Mandrill,
Bill Wells,
China Crisis,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
U.S. Maple,
Slave,
The Music Machine,
Whodini,
Kevin Saunderson,
Subhumans,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Germs,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.