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 San Marino and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 K-Klass to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Technova,
Pantaleimon,
Motorama,
The Real Kids,
Yazoo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Fortunes,
Eve St. Jones,
David Bowie,
Altered Images,
Idris Muhammad,
Tears for Fears,
Spandau Ballet,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Camberwell Now,
John Foxx,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lower 48,
Yellowson,
Crooked Eye,
Patti Smith,
Throbbing Gristle,
ABC,
Kas Product,
The Tremeloes,
Pole,
The United States of America,
Charles Mingus,
Audionom,
Man Parrish,
Bluetip,
The Pretty Things,
Lakeside,
Grauzone,
The American Breed,
Fat Boys,
Fela Kuti,
Basic Channel,
The Fire Engines,
The Birthday Party,
Rites of Spring,
Jandek,
Blancmange,
Sight & Sound,
Mad Mike,
The Evens,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Underground Resistance,
Pierre Henry,
Lebanon Hanover,
Steve Hackett,
Boredoms,
Deadbeat,
The Detroit Cobras,
Arcadia,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.