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 Chile and from Columbus.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gladiators to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Howard Jones,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Heaven 17,
The Index,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Dawn Penn,
The Star Department,
Erasure,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
World's Most,
B.T. Express,
Skaos,
DJ Sneak,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Faust,
The Gories,
Bang On A Can,
Gang Green,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gang of Four,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bill Near,
Nirvana,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Radiohead,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gong,
the Association,
Scan 7,
Cameo,
The Slits,
Cal Tjader,
Y Pants,
Q and Not U,
The Modern Lovers,
The Five Americans,
The Toasters,
Masters at Work,
Swell Maps,
Altered Images,
The Offenders,
Pulsallama,
E-Dancer,
Grandmaster Flash,
Surgeon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Technova,
Skriet,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Reuben Wilson,
The Blues Magoos,
Johnny Osbourne,
KRS-One,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Black Dice,
Minor Threat,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Saccharine Trust,
Siglo XX,
Goldenarms,
Nas,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.