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 Argentina and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 linndrum 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 Judy Mowatt to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All Dual Sessions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
The Durutti Column,
Franke,
Carl Craig,
Camberwell Now,
John Lydon,
Zapp,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Beau Brummels,
Motorama,
Roy Ayers,
Brick,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jacques Brel,
Pet Shop Boys,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Los Fastidios,
Spoonie Gee,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mars,
X-Ray Spex,
Hardrive,
Sällskapet,
Eve St. Jones,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Crispy Ambulance,
Robert Görl,
Nirvana,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Janne Schatter,
Soft Cell,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sam Rivers,
Minutemen,
Bang On A Can,
DNA,
Qualms,
Nick Fraelich,
Josef K,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Black Pus,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Index,
Livin' Joy,
Bad Manners,
Duran Duran,
Symarip,
Average White Band,
the Association,
Fear,
Subhumans,
Buzzcocks,
Sister Nancy,
Nik Kershaw,
Goldenarms,
Bob Dylan,
Thee Headcoats,
Eddi Front,
Tommy Roe,
Davy DMX,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.