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 Russia and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 chamberlin 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 Harry Pussy to the funk 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 The Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agitation Free record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
Ultravox,
Eric Dolphy,
Hashim,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Unrelated Segments,
Popol Vuh,
Siglo XX,
Andrew Hill,
The Gories,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Intrusion,
Erasure,
Sight & Sound,
Connie Case,
Ultimate Spinach,
Graham Central Station,
Black Pus,
Lightning Bolt,
Fugazi,
Darondo,
Jacob Miller,
Lyres,
Roy Ayers,
Wally Richardson,
The Remains,
Nils Olav,
The Electric Prunes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Pretty Things,
X-Ray Spex,
Suicide,
Minor Threat,
Absolute Body Control,
Subhumans,
Wolf Eyes,
T.S.O.L.,
Avey Tare,
Gang Gang Dance,
FM Einheit,
Eric Copeland,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marvin Gaye,
H. Thieme,
Urselle,
L. Decosne,
The Beau Brummels,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Basic Channel,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
MDC,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Roxette,
Masters at Work,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Clear Light,
The Trojans,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.