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 Syria and from Hong Kong.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the snare 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 Jacob Miller to the rock 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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
Yazoo,
10cc,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Bananas,
The Blues Magoos,
48th St. Collective,
Swans,
New York Dolls,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
China Crisis,
Reuben Wilson,
Scan 7,
The Sonics,
Blossom Toes,
EPMD,
Visage,
June Days,
Lower 48,
Lyres,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Fuzztones,
the Association,
Al Stewart,
The Angels of Light,
Public Image Ltd.,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
KRS-One,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Mummies,
David McCallum,
Symarip,
Smog,
Howard Jones,
Dawn Penn,
Gabor Szabo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
James White and The Blacks,
Boredoms,
OOIOO,
Buzzcocks,
La Düsseldorf,
Tropical Tobacco,
Con Funk Shun,
Roxette,
Scion,
Alton Ellis,
Infiniti,
T. Rex,
Adolescents,
kango's stein massive,
Matthew Bourne,
The Victims,
Darondo,
Nation of Ulysses,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Tommy Roe,
The Buckinghams,
Jawbox,
Dorothy Ashby,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.