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 Somalia and from Philadelphia.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Bang On A Can to the grime 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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Siglo XX,
Minutemen,
Arcadia,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bootsy Collins,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lebanon Hanover,
Arab on Radar,
Scratch Acid,
Joy Division,
The Techniques,
The Busters,
Little Man,
Rites of Spring,
Brick,
Thompson Twins,
Robert Görl,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Leonard Cohen,
Joe Smooth,
Tim Buckley,
Procol Harum,
Public Enemy,
ABBA,
Talk Talk,
Dark Day,
Gang of Four,
Royal Trux,
Hoover,
Nation of Ulysses,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Durutti Column,
The Fuzztones,
Joey Negro,
Blossom Toes,
Jerry's Kids,
Clear Light,
the Germs,
the Fania All-Stars,
In Retrospect,
Funky Four + One,
The Slackers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Marmalade,
World's Most,
Prince Buster,
Buzzcocks,
The Barracudas,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ossler,
Los Fastidios,
Graham Central Station,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mission of Burma,
Livin' Joy,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Stockholm Monsters,
Avey Tare,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.