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 Venezuela and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord 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 the Germs to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Real Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Dawn Penn,
Soft Cell,
Flipper,
Model 500,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Durutti Column,
Skarface,
Black Sheep,
Franke,
Iggy Pop,
Black Moon,
X-101,
Danielle Patucci,
Pharoah Sanders,
James White and The Blacks,
Patti Smith,
Bill Wells,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fela Kuti,
Peter and Kerry,
Wolf Eyes,
Public Enemy,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Jandek,
Max Romeo,
Kurtis Blow,
Bobby Sherman,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bobby Hutcherson,
ABBA,
Slick Rick,
The Index,
Unrelated Segments,
The Slackers,
The Saints,
Anakelly,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gil Scott Heron,
Brand Nubian,
E-Dancer,
Wire,
Al Stewart,
Yaz,
John Foxx,
Mandrill,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Moss Icon,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Godley & Creme,
Ossler,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Metal Thangz,
The Beau Brummels,
Angry Samoans,
Depeche Mode,
Derrick May,
Mark Hollis,
Kas Product,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.