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 Israel and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Buzzcocks to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alphaville record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer 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 Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
The Black Dice,
Monks,
Anakelly,
The Count Five,
Erasure,
Index,
The Shadows of Knight,
Adolescents,
The Litter,
Au Pairs,
The Leaves,
Bill Near,
X-101,
Michelle Simonal,
Glenn Branca,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Peter and Kerry,
Jeru the Damaja,
Henry Cow,
Popol Vuh,
Mars,
Warren Ellis,
Theoretical Girls,
The Cure,
Tommy Roe,
Lungfish,
Funky Four + One,
Royal Trux,
Junior Murvin,
Urselle,
Shoche,
Boz Scaggs,
Pierre Henry,
Surgeon,
The J.B.'s,
Ice-T,
Drive Like Jehu,
Tubeway Army,
The Happenings,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Associates,
Tres Demented,
CMW,
The Sound,
the Sonics,
Hoover,
the Slits,
Darondo,
Black Bananas,
Scan 7,
Bush Tetras,
Pylon,
Piero Umiliani,
Chris Corsano,
Ultravox,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
A Flock of Seagulls,
ABC,
Fluxion,
Minny Pops,
Das Ding,
Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul.
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.