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 Romania and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Ohio Players to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a sitar 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 Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Eric Dolphy,
The Velvet Underground,
Donald Byrd,
The Index,
Crooked Eye,
Skaos,
Bronski Beat,
Cecil Taylor,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Toasters,
Japan,
One Last Wish,
Scan 7,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Leonard Cohen,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Radiohead,
Subhumans,
Liliput,
The Monks,
Faust,
T. Rex,
Nils Olav,
Marshall Jefferson,
In Retrospect,
The Tremeloes,
Bad Manners,
Traffic Nightmare,
Funky Four + One,
DJ Style,
Moebius,
The Slackers,
Kayak,
The Sisters of Mercy,
David McCallum,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Brand Nubian,
The Fall,
Jeff Mills,
Cameo,
the Bar-Kays,
Anakelly,
Tres Demented,
Stockholm Monsters,
Iggy Pop,
Juan Atkins,
Davy DMX,
The Selecter,
Bill Near,
kango's stein massive,
the Slits,
Wasted Youth,
Fluxion,
Todd Terry,
Black Bananas,
Con Funk Shun,
Audionom,
Joe Finger,
The Last Poets,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.