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 Panama and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 linndrum 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 Sparks to the rock 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 Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
Josef K,
The Monochrome Set,
Bobby Byrd,
Section 25,
Eric B and Rakim,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Harmonia,
Sister Nancy,
Electric Prunes,
Kayak,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lou Reed,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cal Tjader,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Magazine,
Lou Christie,
D'Angelo,
Eddi Front,
Surgeon,
Newcleus,
Scientists,
MC5,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Japan,
Pere Ubu,
Spandau Ballet,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Minor Threat,
Intrusion,
U.S. Maple,
Scrapy,
The Smiths,
Barry Ungar,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Amon Düül,
Steve Hackett,
The Velvet Underground,
Aloha Tigers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Connie Case,
The Gories,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Electric Prunes,
Au Pairs,
The Divine Comedy,
The Slackers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gang Green,
The Red Krayola,
Interpol,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Infiniti,
Organ,
Sonny Sharrock,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nik Kershaw,
Franke,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.
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.