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 Mali and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Pop Group to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Saints. All the underground hits.
All Essential Logic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar 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 Music Machine,
The Dirtbombs,
Yusef Lateef,
Infiniti,
Bad Manners,
Pussy Galore,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Audionom,
ABBA,
Bronski Beat,
Leonard Cohen,
Charles Mingus,
The Fire Engines,
Icehouse,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dave Gahan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Soft Machine,
Kerri Chandler,
Television,
Vainqueur,
Black Sheep,
The Barracudas,
Don Cherry,
Andrew Hill,
The Golliwogs,
David Bowie,
Little Man,
Gang Green,
Excepter,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pere Ubu,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
F. McDonald,
The Cramps,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Saccharine Trust,
Bill Near,
Minutemen,
The United States of America,
The Fuzztones,
Flipper,
D'Angelo,
Sparks,
Toni Rubio,
Urselle,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Joyce Sims,
Metal Thangz,
Girls At Our Best!,
The J.B.'s,
Lee Hazlewood,
T.S.O.L.,
Aaron Thompson,
Visage,
Faust,
Peter and Kerry,
Niagra,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.