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 Uzbekistan and from Lille.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Wings to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Moebius,
Robert Görl,
Man Parrish,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Johnny Clarke,
The Slits,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Index,
Rakim,
Von Mondo,
Bobby Womack,
Sällskapet,
Sound Behaviour,
The New Christs,
Inner City,
Thee Headcoats,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lungfish,
Reagan Youth,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Throbbing Gristle,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Procol Harum,
The Wake,
New Order,
Jeff Lynne,
ABBA,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kas Product,
Mo-Dettes,
Lebanon Hanover,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Quadrant,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Move,
Josef K,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
F. McDonald,
Accadde A,
Spoonie Gee,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pantytec,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ice-T,
Nas,
Lou Reed,
Radio Birdman,
Alton Ellis,
Whodini,
The Birthday Party,
T.S.O.L.,
Barclay James Harvest,
New Age Steppers,
The Barracudas,
Magazine,
The Saints,
the Slits,
Pylon,
Scott Walker,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.