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 Swaziland and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Michael McDonald 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 Max Romeo 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL 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?
The Dead C,
Thee Headcoats,
Dark Day,
Swans,
David McCallum,
Alton Ellis,
Donny Hathaway,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Johnny Osbourne,
Guru Guru,
The Star Department,
Prince Buster,
Kevin Saunderson,
Godley & Creme,
A Certain Ratio,
Tomorrow,
Gichy Dan,
Supertramp,
Chrome,
John Holt,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Red Krayola,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Don Cherry,
Joe Finger,
Sunsets and Hearts,
June Days,
The Blues Magoos,
Dawn Penn,
Jandek,
Tropical Tobacco,
Todd Rundgren,
Mary Jane Girls,
Q and Not U,
Bobby Womack,
KRS-One,
Index,
Deepchord,
Newcleus,
Archie Shepp,
Marshall Jefferson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Vogues,
Hardrive,
K-Klass,
Eurythmics,
Spoonie Gee,
Boz Scaggs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pantaleimon,
Visage,
Liliput,
Gang of Four,
Gil Scott Heron,
Magma,
Bill Near,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sarah Menescal,
The Cowsills,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.