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 Samoa and from Mexico City.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Blues Magoos to the electroclash 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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Slits,
Bob Dylan,
the Germs,
Nick Fraelich,
Byron Stingily,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nas,
Half Japanese,
The American Breed,
Nik Kershaw,
The Grass Roots,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Fuzztones,
Kerrie Biddell,
Wings,
cv313,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Scott Walker,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Camouflage,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
MDC,
Minny Pops,
Vladislav Delay,
Wolf Eyes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Peter & Gordon,
Radio Birdman,
Reuben Wilson,
Max Romeo,
Anthony Braxton,
Robert Hood,
Cheater Slicks,
Ornette Coleman,
Lindisfarne,
Amazonics,
Funky Four + One,
Saccharine Trust,
The Techniques,
Audionom,
Jesper Dahlback,
Hardrive,
Oneida,
The Red Krayola,
Jacob Miller,
The Trojans,
Kool Moe Dee,
James White and The Blacks,
Toni Rubio,
Mo-Dettes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Subhumans,
H. Thieme,
Juan Atkins,
New Order,
Swell Maps,
Joe Finger,
Cluster,
Reagan Youth,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Joy Division,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.