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 Estonia and from Cairo.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Soft Cell to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Chris & Cosey,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Roy Ayers,
Althea and Donna,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Nico,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Mojo Men,
Bob Dylan,
Bobby Byrd,
Bauhaus,
Sexual Harrassment,
Brass Construction,
Desert Stars,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Slackers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ronan,
Loose Ends,
Isaac Hayes,
This Heat,
Grandmaster Flash,
Supertramp,
Dead Boys,
Dark Day,
Arcadia,
Andrew Hill,
Susan Cadogan,
Sällskapet,
Bang On A Can,
Dawn Penn,
Interpol,
Barbara Tucker,
Clear Light,
The Music Machine,
Shoche,
A Certain Ratio,
Black Pus,
The Doors,
Bad Manners,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Stereo Dub,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pantytec,
Minny Pops,
Jimmy McGriff,
Scott Walker,
Rapeman,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bluetip,
The Wake,
The Barracudas,
The Invisible,
The Fire Engines,
Man Parrish,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
John Coltrane,
Arab on Radar,
Marine Girls,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.