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 Equatorial Guinea and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Smoke to the grunge 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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Ituana,
The Monks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Dave Clark Five,
Infiniti,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Monks,
Roxy Music,
Rapeman,
Eric Copeland,
Donald Byrd,
The Buckinghams,
MC5,
Minnie Riperton,
Flamin' Groovies,
Wolf Eyes,
Jacques Brel,
One Last Wish,
Moebius,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
X-101,
Kenny Larkin,
Symarip,
Aaron Thompson,
Davy DMX,
Toni Rubio,
The Names,
Wally Richardson,
the Normal,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Human League,
Bronski Beat,
PIL,
The Red Krayola,
Bauhaus,
Pantaleimon,
Ohio Players,
Gichy Dan,
Juan Atkins,
Nico,
Aural Exciters,
The Moody Blues,
Con Funk Shun,
The Blackbyrds,
Harmonia,
Main Source,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Eurythmics,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Seeds,
Bill Wells,
Barclay James Harvest,
Alice Coltrane,
JFA,
Deepchord,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Buzzcocks,
Barbara Tucker,
Gang of Four,
Albert Ayler,
Brand Nubian,
Lightning Bolt,
Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron.
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.