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 Netherlands and from Tokyo.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the organ 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 Barclay James Harvest to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
The Gun Club,
Pulsallama,
Robert Görl,
Pet Shop Boys,
Q65,
The Associates,
The New Christs,
Bobby Womack,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Germs,
Freddie Wadling,
Metal Thangz,
John Coltrane,
The Moleskins,
The Busters,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Fatback Band,
Dennis Brown,
The Fire Engines,
Fat Boys,
Desert Stars,
Black Flag,
PIL,
The Music Machine,
Maurizio,
Delon & Dalcan,
Los Fastidios,
Terrestrial Tones,
Scott Walker,
Joensuu 1685,
Excepter,
Michelle Simonal,
Lalann,
Crispy Ambulance,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tom Boy,
Roger Hodgson,
Graham Central Station,
Mars,
Procol Harum,
Ken Boothe,
DJ Sneak,
Bluetip,
Donny Hathaway,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Slackers,
Anakelly,
10cc,
MDC,
Robert Wyatt,
The Selecter,
Motorama,
Faraquet,
Radiohead,
Bang On A Can,
F. McDonald,
Yazoo,
David Bowie,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.