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 El Salvador and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 oboe 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 Barracudas to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-Ray Spex 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?
Cymande,
The Tremeloes,
In Retrospect,
Joyce Sims,
Mr. Review,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Nas,
Minny Pops,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Monochrome Set,
Young Marble Giants,
H. Thieme,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Flash Fearless,
JFA,
Masters at Work,
Arab on Radar,
Anthony Braxton,
The Mojo Men,
The Fugs,
Fear,
Magma,
Excepter,
Ituana,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lebanon Hanover,
June of 44,
Todd Terry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bush Tetras,
Bad Manners,
John Lydon,
Aswad,
Oneida,
Kerri Chandler,
Max Romeo,
Whodini,
Q65,
Bauhaus,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
David Axelrod,
Second Layer,
Moby Grape,
Barry Ungar,
Inner City,
Bob Dylan,
ABC,
The Music Machine,
Franke,
Quando Quango,
Idris Muhammad,
Isaac Hayes,
Joey Negro,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Agent Orange,
Crash Course in Science,
Hoover,
The Gap Band,
Boredoms,
D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo.
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.