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 Taiwan and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 linndrum 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 Lyres to the grunge 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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Wire,
Y Pants,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Quando Quango,
Davy DMX,
the Human League,
Eric Copeland,
The Kinks,
Wolf Eyes,
These Immortal Souls,
The Gun Club,
Suburban Knight,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Slits,
H. Thieme,
Los Fastidios,
Dawn Penn,
Brick,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
K-Klass,
Curtis Mayfield,
Unwound,
Soul Sonic Force,
Babytalk,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
E-Dancer,
Grandmaster Flash,
Chrome,
Fatback Band,
Moby Grape,
Delta 5,
Fluxion,
World's Most,
Pantytec,
Metal Thangz,
Lucky Dragons,
Max Romeo,
Oblivians,
Stetsasonic,
Terrestrial Tones,
Magma,
Bill Wells,
Tommy Roe,
Rosa Yemen,
Cecil Taylor,
Reuben Wilson,
Parry Music,
Wings,
Arthur Verocai,
Pantaleimon,
Barry Ungar,
Piero Umiliani,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The American Breed,
Simply Red,
The Move,
The Toasters,
Index,
Gang Green,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.