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 South Africa and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Severed Heads to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
Carl Craig,
Charles Mingus,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Desert Stars,
The Doobie Brothers,
Nik Kershaw,
The J.B.'s,
Bad Manners,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Underground Resistance,
F. McDonald,
The Fire Engines,
Country Teasers,
Mars,
The Fall,
Donald Byrd,
Delon & Dalcan,
Mandrill,
The Velvet Underground,
Michelle Simonal,
Boz Scaggs,
ABBA,
Outsiders,
One Last Wish,
Big Daddy Kane,
Yazoo,
Loose Ends,
Amazonics,
Steve Hackett,
The Cure,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Maurizio,
Radio Birdman,
Masters at Work,
Soulsonic Force,
Boredoms,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Banda Bassotti,
Sarah Menescal,
Lungfish,
The Grass Roots,
The American Breed,
Main Source,
Echospace,
Harry Pussy,
Shuggie Otis,
Bob Dylan,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sixth Finger,
Leonard Cohen,
Isaac Hayes,
The Seeds,
Stockholm Monsters,
Trumans Water,
Newcleus,
Minutemen,
Pet Shop Boys,
48th St. Collective,
the Swans,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.