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 Uruguay and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Houston and Spokane.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fugazi to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Roxy Music. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Eli Mardock,
The Moody Blues,
Howard Jones,
Boredoms,
Max Romeo,
Warsaw,
Gichy Dan,
Silicon Teens,
Accadde A,
ABC,
X-102,
Robert Wyatt,
Janne Schatter,
The Modern Lovers,
The Dead C,
Gabor Szabo,
Glambeats Corp.,
Spoonie Gee,
Matthew Bourne,
Aswad,
La Düsseldorf,
Lakeside,
The Martian,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sun Ra,
Brand Nubian,
Don Cherry,
Pole,
Piero Umiliani,
Davy DMX,
Jacob Miller,
Inner City,
Agent Orange,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Public Image Ltd.,
Tommy Roe,
Henry Cow,
The Real Kids,
kango's stein massive,
Cheater Slicks,
Archie Shepp,
Skaos,
Darondo,
Royal Trux,
the Germs,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Neon Judgement,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Scion,
Schoolly D,
Laurel Aitken,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pierre Henry,
Bush Tetras,
Connie Case,
Patti Smith,
Josef K,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bootsy Collins,
Ohio Players,
Ponytail,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.