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 Kenya 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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 snare 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 cv313 to the grime 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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jimmy McGriff record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Sun City Girls,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jerry's Kids,
Minnie Riperton,
The Star Department,
Stetsasonic,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Harry Pussy,
Chris Corsano,
Stereo Dub,
Easy Going,
The Alarm Clocks,
Grauzone,
The Toasters,
Hashim,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mantronix,
Andrew Hill,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sparks,
New York Dolls,
Deadbeat,
Franke,
Jesper Dahlback,
Toni Rubio,
World's Most,
Pylon,
Nick Fraelich,
Dark Day,
Roger Hodgson,
Lucky Dragons,
Howard Jones,
F. McDonald,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Neu!,
The Associates,
Amazonics,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Procol Harum,
The Monochrome Set,
The Zeros,
8 Eyed Spy,
Moss Icon,
Graham Central Station,
Avey Tare,
Flamin' Groovies,
Connie Case,
Brothers Johnson,
Guru Guru,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
PIL,
Soulsonic Force,
Urselle,
The Saints,
Dual Sessions,
John Cale,
Colin Newman,
Buzzcocks,
Smog,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.