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 Estonia and from Cairo.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Columbus.
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 guitar 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 Mars to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grey Daturas,
Black Moon,
Fatback Band,
The Birthday Party,
Brass Construction,
Marine Girls,
Television,
Soft Cell,
Sam Rivers,
Swans,
Frankie Knuckles,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Victims,
Faraquet,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Roxette,
Bronski Beat,
The Doobie Brothers,
Faust,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Agitation Free,
Darondo,
MC5,
Bluetip,
Minor Threat,
kango's stein massive,
X-102,
Toni Rubio,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Fugs,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gang Green,
These Immortal Souls,
Connie Case,
Cymande,
Malaria!,
Traffic Nightmare,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Dark Day,
Eurythmics,
F. McDonald,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sandy B,
The Martian,
Gang Starr,
Oneida,
Aural Exciters,
Tears for Fears,
Joe Finger,
The Seeds,
Pharoah Sanders,
Robert Wyatt,
Radio Birdman,
The Five Americans,
Jesper Dahlback,
Swell Maps,
Youth Brigade,
Drexciya,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Derrick Morgan,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Index,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.