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 Oman and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Frankie Knuckles to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond 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 marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Christie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Stockholm Monsters,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The New Christs,
Intrusion,
Fatback Band,
Glenn Branca,
Suicide,
Pet Shop Boys,
Scott Walker,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
DNA,
Ralphi Rosario,
Model 500,
the Swans,
Lee Hazlewood,
Television Personalities,
Grandmaster Flash,
Nirvana,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Marc Almond,
Kayak,
Roy Ayers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Siglo XX,
Junior Murvin,
The Happenings,
Surgeon,
The American Breed,
Sällskapet,
Joensuu 1685,
Gerry Rafferty,
Scientists,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Loose Ends,
The Fortunes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Robert Hood,
The Last Poets,
Tommy Roe,
JFA,
EPMD,
The Leaves,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Moby Grape,
PIL,
New Age Steppers,
Pulsallama,
Electric Prunes,
Hasil Adkins,
John Holt,
Barry Ungar,
Rod Modell,
Crash Course in Science,
The Walker Brothers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.