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 Belgium and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Television to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Ultravox,
Bob Dylan,
Rekid,
Saccharine Trust,
Peter and Kerry,
La Düsseldorf,
The Sound,
The Music Machine,
Ronnie Foster,
The Monks,
Steve Hackett,
Alison Limerick,
Liliput,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Whodini,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Searchers,
The Moody Blues,
The Cramps,
Qualms,
Grauzone,
Man Parrish,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tres Demented,
The American Breed,
The Fuzztones,
Talk Talk,
The Techniques,
Derrick Morgan,
Warren Ellis,
The Smiths,
World's Most,
The Litter,
Deakin,
Zapp,
The Smoke,
Avey Tare,
Albert Ayler,
The Buckinghams,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sixth Finger,
Barbara Tucker,
Faust,
The Trojans,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Electric Prunes,
Eden Ahbez,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rufus Thomas,
Lou Christie,
Jawbox,
The Modern Lovers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Yellowson,
Magazine,
Erykah Badu,
Mantronix,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Cal Tjader,
Kayak,
Franke,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.