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 Germany and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Shuggie Otis to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Soft Cell,
Groovy Waters,
Rites of Spring,
Eve St. Jones,
Bush Tetras,
Crime,
China Crisis,
Terry Callier,
Cameo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kayak,
Alice Coltrane,
X-101,
Delon & Dalcan,
Tom Boy,
Inner City,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Red Krayola,
The Five Americans,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gil Scott Heron,
Malaria!,
Barclay James Harvest,
La Düsseldorf,
Niagra,
the Germs,
Y Pants,
James White and The Blacks,
Siglo XX,
Can,
Camouflage,
Wolf Eyes,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ultravox,
Nico,
Derrick May,
The Busters,
Faraquet,
Rekid,
the Human League,
Ken Boothe,
the Association,
Derrick Morgan,
Mo-Dettes,
Kas Product,
Alphaville,
Kerri Chandler,
Unwound,
The Residents,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Moody Blues,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Al Stewart,
Radio Birdman,
Funkadelic,
Pagans,
The American Breed,
Audionom,
The Seeds,
The Selecter,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.