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 Vanuatu and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Scratch Acid to the crunk 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 Intrusion. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Names,
Fluxion,
Flamin' Groovies,
Todd Rundgren,
Rites of Spring,
Babytalk,
Rod Modell,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Buzzcocks,
Wire,
Kurtis Blow,
Sister Nancy,
Dawn Penn,
Soft Cell,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Johnny Clarke,
Mary Jane Girls,
Interpol,
Pere Ubu,
The Knickerbockers,
Sandy B,
Sonny Sharrock,
Crooked Eye,
Stetsasonic,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sixth Finger,
The Real Kids,
Fela Kuti,
Sight & Sound,
Cecil Taylor,
Blancmange,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
H. Thieme,
Wolf Eyes,
Tres Demented,
The Offenders,
Sex Pistols,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Darondo,
PIL,
Idris Muhammad,
48th St. Collective,
Pantaleimon,
the Sonics,
Yusef Lateef,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bob Dylan,
Faraquet,
Yellowson,
Robert Wyatt,
Susan Cadogan,
Gabor Szabo,
Laurel Aitken,
Black Moon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Slick Rick,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.