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 Guinea-Bissau and from New York.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 spring reverb 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 Au Pairs to the dance 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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Jandek record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Fatback Band,
New York Dolls,
Livin' Joy,
Duran Duran,
The Fall,
Glenn Branca,
Masters at Work,
Matthew Halsall,
The Stooges,
Harry Pussy,
Stetsasonic,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Slits,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Toni Rubio,
Q65,
Suicide,
X-101,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Young Rascals,
Sarah Menescal,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Interpol,
The Remains,
Negative Approach,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Glambeats Corp.,
Desert Stars,
Max Romeo,
the Bar-Kays,
Tears for Fears,
Eric Copeland,
The Beau Brummels,
Trumans Water,
Mission of Burma,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kayak,
Tom Boy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Slick Rick,
Ultra Naté,
The Searchers,
Kerrie Biddell,
kango's stein massive,
Von Mondo,
Oneida,
Danielle Patucci,
Byron Stingily,
the Swans,
Jeff Mills,
Qualms,
Brass Construction,
Blake Baxter,
Letta Mbulu,
Eurythmics,
D'Angelo,
Ultravox,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Angry Samoans,
The Names,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.