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 Kuwait and from Paris.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Portland.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Alarm Clocks to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound 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 a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum 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 Velvet Underground,
Joe Finger,
The Mojo Men,
The Cramps,
Rod Modell,
The Remains,
Livin' Joy,
The Fall,
Duran Duran,
Vladislav Delay,
K-Klass,
T.S.O.L.,
Grey Daturas,
Scan 7,
Wire,
Bobby Sherman,
The Skatalites,
Crime,
Ralphi Rosario,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ornette Coleman,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
H. Thieme,
Agent Orange,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Dark Day,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Icehouse,
Average White Band,
Erasure,
Suicide,
John Lydon,
Half Japanese,
Steve Hackett,
Nick Fraelich,
The Litter,
Letta Mbulu,
Isaac Hayes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Al Stewart,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Durutti Column,
the Sonics,
Tropical Tobacco,
Idris Muhammad,
Animal Collective,
Deepchord,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
New York Dolls,
Faust,
Barry Ungar,
Severed Heads,
Donald Byrd,
The Buckinghams,
Arthur Verocai,
Alice Coltrane,
Stiv Bators,
Brass Construction,
Visage,
Arcadia,
Desert Stars,
JFA,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.