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 Kiribati and from Portland.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Holger Czukay 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 Shoche 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 the Germs. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
The Count Five,
Suburban Knight,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sixth Finger,
Country Teasers,
Bush Tetras,
Traffic Nightmare,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Godley & Creme,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Harmonia,
Qualms,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Martian,
Cybotron,
Section 25,
The Raincoats,
Minutemen,
Vainqueur,
Mad Mike,
Patti Smith,
Deakin,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Unwound,
MDC,
The Misunderstood,
Cameo,
Blossom Toes,
Lungfish,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Chris Corsano,
Lalo Schifrin,
Saccharine Trust,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pet Shop Boys,
Danielle Patucci,
Maurizio,
The Stooges,
Bootsy Collins,
Dennis Brown,
Young Marble Giants,
The Sonics,
Siglo XX,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kurtis Blow,
Eve St. Jones,
Lyres,
The Fugs,
Massinfluence,
Sällskapet,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Grass Roots,
Masters at Work,
Visage,
Make Up,
The Pretty Things,
Stiv Bators,
Jacques Brel,
Barry Ungar,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.