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 Bolivia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Fania All-Stars to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud 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 rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
John Foxx,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Wire,
Clear Light,
Chris & Cosey,
Saccharine Trust,
John Coltrane,
Black Pus,
Tubeway Army,
Sound Behaviour,
Monks,
Byron Stingily,
Patti Smith,
Sly & The Family Stone,
T. Rex,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Echospace,
Yellowson,
Desert Stars,
AZ,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Electric Prunes,
Kevin Saunderson,
New York Dolls,
Brand Nubian,
Gang Green,
Amon Düül II,
Joe Smooth,
Rufus Thomas,
Duran Duran,
Circle Jerks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Q and Not U,
John Cale,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Howard Jones,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The American Breed,
ABBA,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fear,
The Monochrome Set,
Isaac Hayes,
cv313,
The Blues Magoos,
Rod Modell,
June Days,
Eve St. Jones,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dawn Penn,
Crooked Eye,
The Human League,
Kool Moe Dee,
Dave Gahan,
Stiv Bators,
Swell Maps,
Audionom,
Mr. Review,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.