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 Honduras and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Kenny Larkin to the jazz 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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
The Martian,
The Doobie Brothers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Aloha Tigers,
The Tremeloes,
Hardrive,
Aaron Thompson,
Brand Nubian,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Marc Almond,
Vladislav Delay,
Infiniti,
Curtis Mayfield,
New Order,
Inner City,
The Slackers,
Skaos,
JFA,
E-Dancer,
Pylon,
T. Rex,
Electric Prunes,
the Human League,
Neu!,
Big Daddy Kane,
Panda Bear,
Rakim,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kayak,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Animal Collective,
John Holt,
Angry Samoans,
Fela Kuti,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Five Americans,
Dave Gahan,
The Gun Club,
Trumans Water,
Index,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Stockholm Monsters,
Masters at Work,
The Litter,
Hoover,
Mandrill,
La Düsseldorf,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
New Age Steppers,
Pantaleimon,
The Doors,
Black Flag,
Avey Tare,
Jeru the Damaja,
Wings,
Audionom,
Ultra Naté,
Popol Vuh,
Derrick Morgan,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.