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 Costa Rica and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 organ 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 Saccharine Trust to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Shoche. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gong,
Adolescents,
Connie Case,
The United States of America,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Flipper,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bluetip,
Idris Muhammad,
Rites of Spring,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Modern Lovers,
Main Source,
Cymande,
The Toasters,
The Mojo Men,
The Invisible,
La Düsseldorf,
Bang On A Can,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Underground Resistance,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Oneida,
Procol Harum,
Terrestrial Tones,
Khruangbin,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Walker Brothers,
Excepter,
Average White Band,
Pussy Galore,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Warsaw,
The Dead C,
Nation of Ulysses,
Aswad,
Roxy Music,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Monochrome Set,
KRS-One,
Colin Newman,
FM Einheit,
John Foxx,
AZ,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kool Moe Dee,
Wally Richardson,
the Human League,
Vainqueur,
Make Up,
The Dirtbombs,
In Retrospect,
Bronski Beat,
The Human League,
Nick Fraelich,
The Cramps,
Letta Mbulu,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.