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 Yemen and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 Bologna and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Nils Olav to the crunk 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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
The Gun Club,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Soulsonic Force,
The Zeros,
Subhumans,
Pere Ubu,
E-Dancer,
Bob Dylan,
Terry Callier,
Tomorrow,
Stetsasonic,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Robert Hood,
Eddi Front,
Deakin,
Hardrive,
Aswad,
The Barracudas,
Al Stewart,
The Slits,
the Sonics,
Bauhaus,
Popol Vuh,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Yellowson,
Reagan Youth,
Deepchord,
The Cowsills,
Duran Duran,
Faraquet,
Roger Hodgson,
Max Romeo,
Fela Kuti,
Matthew Halsall,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Moss Icon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Brand Nubian,
The Electric Prunes,
Arab on Radar,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kaleidoscope,
Clear Light,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Cosmic Jokers,
the Soft Cell,
Avey Tare,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Tommy Roe,
The Flesh Eaters,
Roy Ayers,
Wasted Youth,
Talk Talk,
Circle Jerks,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Angels of Light,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.