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 Mozambique and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Mad Mike to the funk 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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Alphaville,
10cc,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ornette Coleman,
Joe Finger,
Crispian St. Peters,
Malaria!,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Funky Four + One,
The Index,
MC5,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Birthday Party,
World's Most,
Albert Ayler,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Silicon Teens,
Aswad,
The Remains,
Barrington Levy,
Derrick Morgan,
Mission of Burma,
The Buckinghams,
The Move,
Shoche,
Piero Umiliani,
Kevin Saunderson,
Newcleus,
Sparks,
Reagan Youth,
The Young Rascals,
Mark Hollis,
Model 500,
Letta Mbulu,
Khruangbin,
Groovy Waters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Grey Daturas,
The Red Krayola,
48th St. Collective,
FM Einheit,
Matthew Halsall,
The New Christs,
Robert Hood,
Lungfish,
Q65,
Mr. Review,
Surgeon,
The Fall,
Bronski Beat,
The Slits,
Buzzcocks,
Danielle Patucci,
Barry Ungar,
Echospace,
Delon & Dalcan,
Theoretical Girls,
Negative Approach,
China Crisis,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.