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 Portugal and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Clear Light to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yazoo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Terrestrial Tones,
Index,
Sandy B,
Todd Rundgren,
Bang On A Can,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sister Nancy,
PIL,
The Index,
Sällskapet,
Unrelated Segments,
Byron Stingily,
Josef K,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bluetip,
Drexciya,
Shoche,
Dead Boys,
the Slits,
Clear Light,
Throbbing Gristle,
Colin Newman,
Deadbeat,
The Grass Roots,
Brass Construction,
Mad Mike,
Ultra Naté,
Minor Threat,
Los Fastidios,
John Cale,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nik Kershaw,
Delon & Dalcan,
James White and The Blacks,
Iggy Pop,
Letta Mbulu,
Sarah Menescal,
Dave Gahan,
Crime,
Jeru the Damaja,
X-Ray Spex,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Heaven 17,
The Dave Clark Five,
Magma,
Eric Copeland,
Depeche Mode,
The Pretty Things,
Kerrie Biddell,
La Düsseldorf,
Scott Walker,
Wire,
Cal Tjader,
Godley & Creme,
Eve St. Jones,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fugazi,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bauhaus,
Agitation Free,
Whodini,
June Days,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.