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 Ukraine and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Hong Kong.
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 harpsichord 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 Martian to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Scott Walker,
Bobby Sherman,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Golliwogs,
Schoolly D,
The Beau Brummels,
Rapeman,
Clear Light,
Brand Nubian,
Shoche,
Traffic Nightmare,
Toni Rubio,
Negative Approach,
Electric Prunes,
The Index,
Model 500,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Goldenarms,
Todd Rundgren,
Black Flag,
Agent Orange,
Erasure,
Frankie Knuckles,
K-Klass,
These Immortal Souls,
Aswad,
Crispy Ambulance,
Thee Headcoats,
The Residents,
Sister Nancy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Wasted Youth,
Jeff Lynne,
ABC,
Johnny Clarke,
Fad Gadget,
Con Funk Shun,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pantaleimon,
The American Breed,
The Trojans,
Dawn Penn,
Underground Resistance,
the Bar-Kays,
Desert Stars,
R.M.O.,
Scion,
Kurtis Blow,
Interpol,
CMW,
Tim Buckley,
Bang On A Can,
Brick,
Oneida,
The Buckinghams,
Colin Newman,
The Birthday Party,
Gang Starr,
Swans,
Ronan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band.
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.