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 Mexico and from Cairo.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 arpeggiator 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 The Electric Prunes to the rap 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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Oblivians,
Cymande,
Bobby Byrd,
Lungfish,
Soul Sonic Force,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ken Boothe,
The Leaves,
Saccharine Trust,
Cameo,
Lightning Bolt,
Suburban Knight,
Soft Cell,
Black Flag,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lou Reed,
Gabor Szabo,
Kerrie Biddell,
Black Bananas,
Prince Buster,
The Grass Roots,
L. Decosne,
Byron Stingily,
Judy Mowatt,
Bill Wells,
The Busters,
Joyce Sims,
In Retrospect,
Suicide,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Henry Cow,
X-102,
Moss Icon,
Marine Girls,
The Mojo Men,
Ultimate Spinach,
Flipper,
ABC,
Fela Kuti,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Chrome,
UT,
Warsaw,
Derrick Morgan,
Susan Cadogan,
Glambeats Corp.,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dead Boys,
Surgeon,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Count Five,
Public Image Ltd.,
Eric Copeland,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tommy Roe,
Procol Harum,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.