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 East Timor and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
Absolute Body Control,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marine Girls,
Brass Construction,
The Victims,
Bob Dylan,
KRS-One,
Malaria!,
Surgeon,
Spoonie Gee,
Al Stewart,
Adolescents,
Wire,
Radio Birdman,
Ronnie Foster,
Sex Pistols,
Rhythm & Sound,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Fortunes,
Massinfluence,
Television,
L. Decosne,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Glenn Branca,
The Alarm Clocks,
Delon & Dalcan,
The United States of America,
Lyres,
Graham Central Station,
The Star Department,
Henry Cow,
Lightning Bolt,
Byron Stingily,
Todd Rundgren,
Yellowson,
Rakim,
Aural Exciters,
Niagra,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kurtis Blow,
The Stooges,
Roxette,
Throbbing Gristle,
Blancmange,
FM Einheit,
Cameo,
The Toasters,
Eurythmics,
Von Mondo,
Maleditus Sound,
Popol Vuh,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
48th St. Collective,
The Modern Lovers,
The Divine Comedy,
Bill Wells,
Suicide,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Buckinghams,
Fatback Band,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.