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 Nauru and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 clarinet 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 Smiths to the crunk 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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
The Golliwogs,
Model 500,
The Birthday Party,
48th St. Collective,
Darondo,
the Slits,
The Index,
John Cale,
Pole,
Trumans Water,
Harmonia,
Marine Girls,
The Star Department,
Faust,
Sight & Sound,
D'Angelo,
Wolf Eyes,
Leonard Cohen,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Joyce Sims,
ABBA,
Outsiders,
The Offenders,
The Trojans,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Warsaw,
Spandau Ballet,
Average White Band,
Jesper Dahlback,
Brass Construction,
Flamin' Groovies,
Smog,
The Last Poets,
The Five Americans,
The Flesh Eaters,
Franke,
Lou Christie,
Barrington Levy,
Mars,
Parry Music,
Sly & The Family Stone,
EPMD,
Glenn Branca,
The United States of America,
Rod Modell,
Underground Resistance,
Colin Newman,
Blancmange,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Accadde A,
Rakim,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Marc Almond,
Hashim,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Busters,
Toni Rubio,
L. Decosne,
Soul Sonic Force,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.