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 Philippines and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord 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 Livin' Joy to the rock 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lower 48 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Black Pus,
Marine Girls,
Second Layer,
Franke,
Ice-T,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Tim Buckley,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Slits,
Young Marble Giants,
R.M.O.,
T.S.O.L.,
LL Cool J,
10cc,
The Gun Club,
UT,
Deadbeat,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Modern Lovers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Surgeon,
Jacques Brel,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Chrome,
Pagans,
Oblivians,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
A Certain Ratio,
Heaven 17,
OOIOO,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Audionom,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sexual Harrassment,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Porter Ricks,
Judy Mowatt,
Fugazi,
Pharoah Sanders,
Nik Kershaw,
The Divine Comedy,
The Sonics,
Animal Collective,
Youth Brigade,
Bad Manners,
Smog,
Marmalade,
Avey Tare,
Mars,
Joe Finger,
Connie Case,
Suicide,
Mark Hollis,
Pylon,
Pantytec,
Skarface,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cybotron,
Flash Fearless,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.