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 Guyana and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Cairo.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Reagan Youth to the electroclash 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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jimmy McGriff,
Freddie Wadling,
The Fall,
Scientists,
Girls At Our Best!,
Scratch Acid,
Funkadelic,
Dave Gahan,
Visage,
Boredoms,
Flipper,
Joey Negro,
Masters at Work,
Absolute Body Control,
Brothers Johnson,
Surgeon,
Niagra,
Throbbing Gristle,
Howard Jones,
The Fortunes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Schoolly D,
Albert Ayler,
Quadrant,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Zapp,
The Doors,
Youth Brigade,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bluetip,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bobby Sherman,
The Associates,
Cheater Slicks,
Das Ding,
Bill Wells,
Unrelated Segments,
Cecil Taylor,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Supertramp,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
PIL,
the Soft Cell,
Ken Boothe,
The Fuzztones,
Tres Demented,
Quantec,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Angry Samoans,
Rufus Thomas,
Lower 48,
Thompson Twins,
Jerry's Kids,
Talk Talk,
Average White Band,
kango's stein massive,
ABC,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.