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 Marshall Islands and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Residents to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Roxette,
The Stooges,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Nico,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Black Bananas,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Soft Cell,
The Toasters,
Sonic Youth,
Faraquet,
Spandau Ballet,
Y Pants,
Masters at Work,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Swell Maps,
kango's stein massive,
The Fire Engines,
Sun City Girls,
Mission of Burma,
Kerri Chandler,
Guru Guru,
Yellowson,
Banda Bassotti,
Chris & Cosey,
T.S.O.L.,
Interpol,
Ultra Naté,
Dead Boys,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Japan,
Bobby Sherman,
the Normal,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eric Copeland,
Buzzcocks,
Roger Hodgson,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Slits,
Matthew Bourne,
Deakin,
Pulsallama,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gichy Dan,
Brand Nubian,
New York Dolls,
James White and The Blacks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Aaron Thompson,
Freddie Wadling,
Grandmaster Flash,
A Certain Ratio,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Theoretical Girls,
The Litter,
Tim Buckley,
Bobby Womack,
Harpers Bizarre,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.