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 Nigeria and from London.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
Max Romeo,
Y Pants,
The Fall,
Dead Boys,
The Moleskins,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Harmonia,
Ice-T,
Franke,
Sam Rivers,
Skaos,
The Buckinghams,
Harry Pussy,
Fluxion,
Fat Boys,
Crime,
Howard Jones,
Echospace,
The Music Machine,
Roy Ayers,
Skriet,
Technova,
Bronski Beat,
Crispy Ambulance,
David Axelrod,
Crispian St. Peters,
New Age Steppers,
Bootsy Collins,
Circle Jerks,
Vainqueur,
Derrick May,
Shuggie Otis,
Quando Quango,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Graham Central Station,
Trumans Water,
Shoche,
Todd Rundgren,
The Golliwogs,
Kas Product,
Jeff Mills,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bauhaus,
Sarah Menescal,
Fad Gadget,
The Searchers,
Warsaw,
Cameo,
Flipper,
The Modern Lovers,
H. Thieme,
the Soft Cell,
Can,
Wasted Youth,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Suicide,
The Skatalites,
The Victims,
T.S.O.L.,
Rosa Yemen,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.