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 Malawi and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Moody Blues to the dance 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
Eddi Front,
The Slits,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cymande,
The Electric Prunes,
One Last Wish,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fat Boys,
Skriet,
Joey Negro,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Erasure,
The Gun Club,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Toasters,
The Pretty Things,
Blancmange,
Matthew Bourne,
Peter and Kerry,
Intrusion,
Henry Cow,
Faust,
Alison Limerick,
Tropical Tobacco,
Zapp,
Swans,
Anakelly,
Livin' Joy,
Dark Day,
Alice Coltrane,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Michelle Simonal,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Divine Comedy,
Leonard Cohen,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Vainqueur,
Robert Wyatt,
Duran Duran,
Scan 7,
Pussy Galore,
Lou Reed,
Theoretical Girls,
Lyres,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Black Dice,
Oblivians,
Radiopuhelimet,
Idris Muhammad,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rod Modell,
June of 44,
Section 25,
E-Dancer,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Eurythmics,
Faraquet,
The Monochrome Set,
Index,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.