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 India and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 marimba 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 Severed Heads to the disco 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
The Remains,
Ornette Coleman,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Charles Mingus,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Stooges,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Moody Blues,
Drive Like Jehu,
Soul II Soul,
The Gap Band,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ultra Naté,
New Age Steppers,
Sun Ra,
The Beau Brummels,
Gang Green,
The Doobie Brothers,
Whodini,
The Blackbyrds,
Circle Jerks,
The Knickerbockers,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kas Product,
The Skatalites,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lakeside,
Pere Ubu,
The Vogues,
The Blues Magoos,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Oneida,
These Immortal Souls,
China Crisis,
Sällskapet,
Maleditus Sound,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Albert Ayler,
Sexual Harrassment,
Wolf Eyes,
Dave Gahan,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mr. Review,
Talk Talk,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Livin' Joy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Soulsonic Force,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jawbox,
Skaos,
Black Sheep,
Cheater Slicks,
Darondo,
Neu!,
The Gladiators,
New York Dolls,
Roger Hodgson,
Sugar Minott,
Kaleidoscope,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.