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 Italy and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Young Marble Giants to the funk 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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro 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 arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Soul Sonic Force,
Animal Collective,
Gang of Four,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wally Richardson,
KRS-One,
The Golliwogs,
T. Rex,
Bob Dylan,
The Busters,
Bizarre Inc.,
Matthew Halsall,
Fat Boys,
Joensuu 1685,
China Crisis,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jeff Lynne,
EPMD,
Fugazi,
Ronan,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fela Kuti,
Eurythmics,
The Evens,
Joey Negro,
Prince Buster,
Yaz,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Vogues,
Niagra,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Camouflage,
Sällskapet,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mad Mike,
Stetsasonic,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Mojo Men,
Barry Ungar,
Drexciya,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
DNA,
Pet Shop Boys,
Wolf Eyes,
Rites of Spring,
Porter Ricks,
The Grass Roots,
Ultravox,
Sexual Harrassment,
Josef K,
Laurel Aitken,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bootsy Collins,
Pussy Galore,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Remains,
The Human League,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.