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 Latvia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Janne Schatter to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
The Searchers,
X-Ray Spex,
Patti Smith,
Deepchord,
K-Klass,
Pussy Galore,
R.M.O.,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
David Axelrod,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pet Shop Boys,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Electric Prunes,
Jacob Miller,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Gun Club,
Mo-Dettes,
Royal Trux,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Soft Cell,
Main Source,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Byron Stingily,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Fall,
Aloha Tigers,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Grass Roots,
Minutemen,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Donny Hathaway,
John Holt,
Ultra Naté,
Peter and Kerry,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Suburban Knight,
Moby Grape,
Skriet,
Nirvana,
The Birthday Party,
Black Sheep,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Harry Pussy,
The Gories,
The Stooges,
Severed Heads,
Al Stewart,
The Beau Brummels,
Kerrie Biddell,
Flash Fearless,
Icehouse,
John Foxx,
Fear,
Alphaville,
Zero Boys,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kenny Larkin,
Fugazi,
Kurtis Blow,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.