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 Ecuador and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 David Bowie 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 MC5 to the electroclash 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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
Subhumans,
Depeche Mode,
K-Klass,
Ponytail,
Television,
The Leaves,
Arthur Verocai,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jerry's Kids,
FM Einheit,
Barrington Levy,
Pussy Galore,
Tom Boy,
The Fortunes,
LL Cool J,
Kaleidoscope,
John Cale,
Hoover,
Underground Resistance,
Trumans Water,
AZ,
Warsaw,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Mojo Men,
Sister Nancy,
John Lydon,
Delon & Dalcan,
Liliput,
Pole,
The Human League,
Wally Richardson,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ronan,
Crash Course in Science,
Bob Dylan,
Loose Ends,
Mark Hollis,
Popol Vuh,
The Mighty Diamonds,
F. McDonald,
Banda Bassotti,
The Red Krayola,
Von Mondo,
Spandau Ballet,
Alison Limerick,
The Fugs,
Motorama,
Cameo,
Country Teasers,
Anthony Braxton,
Simply Red,
Deadbeat,
Moss Icon,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Doors,
Infiniti,
Fad Gadget,
Max Romeo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Aswad,
Johnny Osbourne,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Isaac Hayes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.