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 Cuba and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Cairo.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Smog to the rap 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Alphaville,
Lou Reed,
Pylon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Andrew Hill,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bronski Beat,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Motions,
These Immortal Souls,
Eurythmics,
Quantec,
Severed Heads,
David Bowie,
DJ Style,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
New Age Steppers,
Wasted Youth,
Slick Rick,
The Offenders,
Maleditus Sound,
EPMD,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Flamin' Groovies,
Japan,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sun City Girls,
Jeff Mills,
Yaz,
Donny Hathaway,
One Last Wish,
Rod Modell,
Index,
Kas Product,
Radiohead,
Anakelly,
Motorama,
The Saints,
Cal Tjader,
Pole,
The Leaves,
Bill Wells,
Wings,
Outsiders,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Black Sheep,
Surgeon,
Pierre Henry,
Altered Images,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Fania All-Stars,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.