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 Vanuatu and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 snare 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 Motorama to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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 Victims,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tom Boy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Swans,
Kerri Chandler,
Mark Hollis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Severed Heads,
Das Ding,
Angry Samoans,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
X-102,
The Names,
The Move,
Toni Rubio,
Popol Vuh,
Mission of Burma,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Alison Limerick,
Donald Byrd,
Harpers Bizarre,
Accadde A,
Harmonia,
the Sonics,
Intrusion,
Ultra Naté,
DJ Style,
Ice-T,
The Invisible,
Robert Wyatt,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marc Almond,
Godley & Creme,
Crash Course in Science,
Adolescents,
Hot Snakes,
Erasure,
Vainqueur,
Arab on Radar,
The Doors,
kango's stein massive,
Dennis Brown,
The Cowsills,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Joyce Sims,
The Neon Judgement,
Monks,
cv313,
Gil Scott Heron,
Roxette,
Motorama,
Maleditus Sound,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Remains,
Massinfluence,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lou Christie,
Von Mondo,
The New Christs,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.