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 Korea South and from Lille.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 linndrum 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 The Sonics to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
The Raincoats,
Index,
Pere Ubu,
Mandrill,
Marine Girls,
The Invisible,
Yellowson,
Terrestrial Tones,
Terry Callier,
Radio Birdman,
James White and The Blacks,
Half Japanese,
Ken Boothe,
Cal Tjader,
Joe Finger,
Spandau Ballet,
Stetsasonic,
Chrome,
The Blues Magoos,
Marshall Jefferson,
Severed Heads,
The Fall,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bauhaus,
Lou Christie,
Kevin Saunderson,
Alison Limerick,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Flipper,
Franke,
the Swans,
Delon & Dalcan,
La Düsseldorf,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sun City Girls,
the Human League,
Crispy Ambulance,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Offenders,
Joy Division,
Marc Almond,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Blackbyrds,
Pierre Henry,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Tears for Fears,
H. Thieme,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gregory Isaacs,
Absolute Body Control,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Second Layer,
Judy Mowatt,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Maleditus Sound,
Scientists,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Victims,
The Gladiators,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.