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 Djibouti and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 guitar 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 Marine Girls to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Robert Wyatt,
Sexual Harrassment,
Youth Brigade,
Underground Resistance,
Banda Bassotti,
Jacques Brel,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Electric Prunes,
Massinfluence,
The Modern Lovers,
T. Rex,
Donny Hathaway,
The Gladiators,
Jacob Miller,
Nation of Ulysses,
Deadbeat,
U.S. Maple,
EPMD,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Skaos,
Jerry's Kids,
The Trojans,
JFA,
Rakim,
Make Up,
Bizarre Inc.,
Spoonie Gee,
Ken Boothe,
Average White Band,
Wally Richardson,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jandek,
Funkadelic,
The Real Kids,
Can,
The Zeros,
Symarip,
Quantec,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Au Pairs,
Lyres,
Erykah Badu,
Faust,
Cecil Taylor,
Todd Rundgren,
Isaac Hayes,
James White and The Blacks,
The Cure,
Groovy Waters,
Vainqueur,
Barry Ungar,
kango's stein massive,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ultravox,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Von Mondo,
The Misunderstood,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Stooges,
Sugar Minott,
Thompson Twins,
Zapp,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.