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 Uzbekistan and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 guitar 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 ABC to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Das Ding,
Grey Daturas,
The Misunderstood,
AZ,
Mr. Review,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pylon,
The Young Rascals,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eve St. Jones,
Slick Rick,
David McCallum,
Jandek,
John Holt,
The Names,
Outsiders,
Sixth Finger,
The Moleskins,
Angry Samoans,
The Shadows of Knight,
PIL,
The New Christs,
Adolescents,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jawbox,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Wake,
Jacob Miller,
JFA,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Minutemen,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cheater Slicks,
The Evens,
Radiopuhelimet,
Soul II Soul,
Pantytec,
Boz Scaggs,
Pole,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bang On A Can,
Mantronix,
Thee Headcoats,
Q65,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Sonics,
June of 44,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Al Stewart,
Isaac Hayes,
Sonic Youth,
Aural Exciters,
the Human League,
La Düsseldorf,
Pussy Galore,
Ten City,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Popol Vuh,
Qualms,
Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio.
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.