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 Bangladesh and from Houston.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the rap 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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Susan Cadogan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
Iggy Pop,
Jacques Brel,
David Axelrod,
The J.B.'s,
Y Pants,
Trumans Water,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tim Buckley,
Sixth Finger,
LL Cool J,
Jandek,
The Human League,
The Red Krayola,
Bush Tetras,
Hasil Adkins,
Roger Hodgson,
David Bowie,
Scott Walker,
Stockholm Monsters,
Supertramp,
Kaleidoscope,
Godley & Creme,
The Modern Lovers,
Eddi Front,
Wally Richardson,
Soft Cell,
Judy Mowatt,
Drexciya,
Stiv Bators,
Derrick May,
Cybotron,
Roxy Music,
Kerrie Biddell,
Tears for Fears,
Pharoah Sanders,
Funky Four + One,
Masters at Work,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
June Days,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pagans,
Monolake,
The Blues Magoos,
The Residents,
Ronnie Foster,
The Zeros,
Smog,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Model 500,
Spandau Ballet,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Buzzcocks,
The Young Rascals,
Clear Light,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Leaves,
The Index,
Bob Dylan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive.
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.