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 Toronto.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Crispian St. Peters 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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
The Victims,
New Order,
Youth Brigade,
Moebius,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lou Reed,
Pharoah Sanders,
kango's stein massive,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mark Hollis,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Warren Ellis,
Ultravox,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Selecter,
Cybotron,
K-Klass,
The Monks,
John Foxx,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Crash Course in Science,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lakeside,
Tom Boy,
Iggy Pop,
Andrew Hill,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Negative Approach,
MDC,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marvin Gaye,
The Cowsills,
The Busters,
Dawn Penn,
Kayak,
Ice-T,
Royal Trux,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Warsaw,
Scott Walker,
Pere Ubu,
Aaron Thompson,
T. Rex,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bob Dylan,
Harry Pussy,
Funkadelic,
Zapp,
Lightning Bolt,
The Last Poets,
Spoonie Gee,
Tres Demented,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Peter & Gordon,
The Black Dice,
Nick Fraelich,
Television Personalities,
Anthony Braxton,
Fort Wilson Riot,
June of 44,
Fluxion,
Letta Mbulu,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.