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 Seychelles and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Real Kids to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days 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 harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Peter & Gordon,
The Happenings,
Bill Near,
OOIOO,
Sam Rivers,
The Kinks,
Young Marble Giants,
Brothers Johnson,
Black Moon,
Brand Nubian,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Nas,
the Sonics,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Fugs,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Camouflage,
Marc Almond,
The Zeros,
Amon Düül II,
Gang Starr,
Sandy B,
The Alarm Clocks,
John Holt,
Boredoms,
Kenny Larkin,
The Gap Band,
Blossom Toes,
The Sound,
Matthew Bourne,
The Offenders,
Peter and Kerry,
Crooked Eye,
Duran Duran,
Erykah Badu,
New York Dolls,
Kerri Chandler,
Derrick May,
Simply Red,
Shuggie Otis,
Minor Threat,
The Angels of Light,
David Bowie,
Jeff Lynne,
Sonic Youth,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Donald Byrd,
Hot Snakes,
Nico,
Fugazi,
Todd Terry,
Bobby Sherman,
Todd Rundgren,
Howard Jones,
Davy DMX,
Lindisfarne,
Altered Images,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.