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 Palau and from Edmonton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
UT,
Sun Ra,
The Electric Prunes,
ABC,
Andrew Hill,
The Neon Judgement,
Mad Mike,
Cymande,
Barrington Levy,
Wally Richardson,
Delta 5,
the Sonics,
Harry Pussy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bill Wells,
Icehouse,
Black Bananas,
The Velvet Underground,
The Star Department,
Nils Olav,
The Trojans,
The Walker Brothers,
Magma,
Sister Nancy,
Heaven 17,
Adolescents,
Donald Byrd,
Leonard Cohen,
The Blackbyrds,
Groovy Waters,
Peter and Kerry,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marvin Gaye,
The Vogues,
Organ,
The Pop Group,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Fall,
The Techniques,
Lindisfarne,
Nick Fraelich,
Easy Going,
DNA,
The Beau Brummels,
The Move,
Amon Düül,
Dave Gahan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crispian St. Peters,
Clear Light,
JFA,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Skarface,
Isaac Hayes,
The Index,
The Buckinghams,
Don Cherry,
The Zeros,
The Slits,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.