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 Bulgaria and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 snare 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 Porter Ricks to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thompson Twins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Soft Cell,
The Electric Prunes,
Tom Boy,
Arab on Radar,
Bronski Beat,
Silicon Teens,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Vainqueur,
Wally Richardson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Black Pus,
X-102,
Joe Smooth,
Bluetip,
Tomorrow,
Suicide,
The J.B.'s,
The Fall,
The Victims,
Yusef Lateef,
June of 44,
the Slits,
The Slackers,
Agitation Free,
Amazonics,
Ultimate Spinach,
Television Personalities,
Connie Case,
Iggy Pop,
Shuggie Otis,
Sällskapet,
Brothers Johnson,
Metal Thangz,
Radiopuhelimet,
Crispian St. Peters,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Deakin,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
June Days,
The Moleskins,
Bobby Sherman,
Public Image Ltd.,
Jawbox,
Au Pairs,
The Divine Comedy,
Aaron Thompson,
Dead Boys,
Cameo,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Drexciya,
The Leaves,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Names,
Jandek,
Johnny Osbourne,
Stockholm Monsters,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Soft Cell,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.