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 Canada and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Robert Palmer 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 Wally Richardson to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
La Düsseldorf,
The Velvet Underground,
Porter Ricks,
Reagan Youth,
The Flesh Eaters,
Theoretical Girls,
Marmalade,
Funkadelic,
Kurtis Blow,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Litter,
Blake Baxter,
Infiniti,
Animal Collective,
Charles Mingus,
Absolute Body Control,
The Beau Brummels,
Tears for Fears,
Althea and Donna,
Kenny Larkin,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Busters,
Depeche Mode,
Wally Richardson,
Glenn Branca,
The Associates,
Hoover,
The Pop Group,
The Names,
Rufus Thomas,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Circle Jerks,
Excepter,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Joe Finger,
Magazine,
Sun Ra,
Unrelated Segments,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Divine Comedy,
Inner City,
The Tremeloes,
Skaos,
Lindisfarne,
Au Pairs,
Skarface,
Lungfish,
The Gories,
These Immortal Souls,
The Dead C,
Liliput,
Chris & Cosey,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sound Behaviour,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Fuzztones,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Roxette,
Piero Umiliani,
Black Pus,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.