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 Namibia and from Shanghai.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Winnipeg.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 the Normal to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiohead,
Adolescents,
Lungfish,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Black Pus,
Von Mondo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mary Jane Girls,
Buzzcocks,
Juan Atkins,
David Bowie,
Ludus,
Monolake,
Trumans Water,
Janne Schatter,
Arcadia,
H. Thieme,
Joey Negro,
Rufus Thomas,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Joyce Sims,
Accadde A,
Jeru the Damaja,
Blancmange,
Liliput,
The Last Poets,
MDC,
Camberwell Now,
FM Einheit,
Pet Shop Boys,
Marmalade,
Wally Richardson,
John Holt,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Judy Mowatt,
Magma,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Circle Jerks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Star Department,
Letta Mbulu,
Pharoah Sanders,
Albert Ayler,
Minutemen,
Todd Rundgren,
Can,
Cluster,
Roxette,
Nik Kershaw,
48th St. Collective,
JFA,
Arthur Verocai,
Amazonics,
The Invisible,
Gang Green,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ornette Coleman,
The Stooges,
Robert Görl,
Surgeon,
The United States of America,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.