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 Barbados and from Columbus.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the guitar 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 Stiv Bators to the rap 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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Man Parrish,
The Mummies,
Mandrill,
John Holt,
The Seeds,
Joey Negro,
Faust,
Pere Ubu,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Barrington Levy,
KRS-One,
R.M.O.,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Boz Scaggs,
Eden Ahbez,
Pylon,
Blossom Toes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Walker Brothers,
Derrick Morgan,
The Litter,
Lightning Bolt,
Ultravox,
The Doors,
Niagra,
DNA,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
the Soft Cell,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Terry Callier,
Parry Music,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Porter Ricks,
Rosa Yemen,
Andrew Hill,
The Buckinghams,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Thee Headcoats,
The Stooges,
Eve St. Jones,
Goldenarms,
Fear,
Pierre Henry,
Cheater Slicks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Nico,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lalann,
Gong,
The Wake,
Thompson Twins,
The Residents,
Glenn Branca,
David Bowie,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Black Flag,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.