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 Czech Republic and from Stockholm.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
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 U.S. Maple to the dance 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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Duran Duran,
Robert Hood,
The Smiths,
Gichy Dan,
Make Up,
8 Eyed Spy,
Hasil Adkins,
Juan Atkins,
The Kinks,
Amazonics,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Camberwell Now,
Fear,
Youth Brigade,
JFA,
Black Moon,
Lungfish,
Bootsy Collins,
Japan,
Colin Newman,
Jeru the Damaja,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Livin' Joy,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eli Mardock,
The Buckinghams,
X-102,
Scrapy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Cure,
The Gories,
Big Daddy Kane,
Newcleus,
Hoover,
Gang of Four,
Whodini,
June Days,
Sun Ra,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Slave,
Altered Images,
Underground Resistance,
Excepter,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Cowsills,
Visage,
Letta Mbulu,
Blossom Toes,
Intrusion,
Public Image Ltd.,
Von Mondo,
Tears for Fears,
Crime,
Tres Demented,
Porter Ricks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Throbbing Gristle,
Howard Jones,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.