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 Tajikistan and from Bologna.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Erasure to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Barbara Tucker,
Stereo Dub,
Monks,
Sound Behaviour,
The Neon Judgement,
Pet Shop Boys,
Inner City,
Scan 7,
Popol Vuh,
Sight & Sound,
Al Stewart,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Trojans,
Mo-Dettes,
The Seeds,
Q and Not U,
Gichy Dan,
The Dirtbombs,
Schoolly D,
Pierre Henry,
Black Bananas,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Vladislav Delay,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Mr. Review,
Severed Heads,
Gregory Isaacs,
Todd Terry,
Cecil Taylor,
Traffic Nightmare,
Stiv Bators,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ice-T,
Urselle,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Fear,
Carl Craig,
Bobby Sherman,
Eve St. Jones,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Germs,
Sun Ra,
The Searchers,
The Invisible,
The Real Kids,
The Offenders,
The Durutti Column,
Marvin Gaye,
Deadbeat,
The Young Rascals,
The Victims,
Make Up,
Livin' Joy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Scion,
Slave,
Shoche,
Marc Almond,
Cluster,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.