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 Maldives and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the organ 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 Nick Fraelich to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Cramps. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
The Offenders,
China Crisis,
FM Einheit,
This Heat,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Erasure,
The Remains,
Ohio Players,
The Wake,
Brass Construction,
The Motions,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marc Almond,
Mantronix,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
KRS-One,
Dead Boys,
Delon & Dalcan,
Flamin' Groovies,
Johnny Osbourne,
Porter Ricks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Albert Ayler,
Dark Day,
Pulsallama,
Goldenarms,
These Immortal Souls,
the Swans,
LL Cool J,
Mary Jane Girls,
Heaven 17,
Harry Pussy,
The Residents,
Second Layer,
Sister Nancy,
Howard Jones,
The Angels of Light,
Junior Murvin,
Cluster,
Siglo XX,
Spoonie Gee,
10cc,
The Detroit Cobras,
Hasil Adkins,
Mad Mike,
World's Most,
Moss Icon,
The Searchers,
Intrusion,
U.S. Maple,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lightning Bolt,
the Normal,
The Martian,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Fania All-Stars,
The American Breed,
Donald Byrd,
Barclay James Harvest,
Supertramp,
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.