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 Lesotho and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ituana. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Quadrant,
Circle Jerks,
The Grass Roots,
The Last Poets,
Silicon Teens,
Albert Ayler,
Clear Light,
Television,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sonic Youth,
World's Most,
Kool Moe Dee,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Erasure,
Neu!,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Con Funk Shun,
H. Thieme,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Sonics,
The Cowsills,
The Angels of Light,
Index,
Flamin' Groovies,
Aural Exciters,
Second Layer,
Marine Girls,
Gang of Four,
The Happenings,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rekid,
Warsaw,
Ultravox,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lakeside,
The Residents,
The Wake,
Saccharine Trust,
Judy Mowatt,
Newcleus,
Patti Smith,
Lebanon Hanover,
Charles Mingus,
Sixth Finger,
Sex Pistols,
Underground Resistance,
the Association,
Erykah Badu,
Kayak,
Rhythm & Sound,
John Coltrane,
Ice-T,
Eli Mardock,
Mr. Review,
Shoche,
Drexciya,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.