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 Ivory Coast and from Milan.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Vladislav Delay to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Johnny Clarke,
Das Ding,
Youth Brigade,
Piero Umiliani,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pussy Galore,
Los Fastidios,
Darondo,
The Knickerbockers,
Rod Modell,
Scott Walker,
Neil Young,
Mark Hollis,
Tommy Roe,
Mary Jane Girls,
Thompson Twins,
Josef K,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pagans,
Bill Near,
New Age Steppers,
Sex Pistols,
Alice Coltrane,
Charles Mingus,
Lindisfarne,
Bobby Sherman,
Blancmange,
Outsiders,
Parry Music,
John Foxx,
The Detroit Cobras,
Basic Channel,
Girls At Our Best!,
ABBA,
The Real Kids,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The United States of America,
Archie Shepp,
Stiv Bators,
Ohio Players,
Con Funk Shun,
Erykah Badu,
Barrington Levy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Subhumans,
The Techniques,
Connie Case,
Bill Wells,
Kurtis Blow,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cybotron,
Yusef Lateef,
The Dave Clark Five,
Warren Ellis,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Slits,
Moebius,
Fatback Band,
Tears for Fears,
Soft Machine,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.