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 Montenegro and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 Pole to the dance 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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Foxx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Japan,
Erykah Badu,
Soft Machine,
The Gories,
The Fall,
Los Fastidios,
The Misunderstood,
Rosa Yemen,
Shoche,
Jacques Brel,
The Smiths,
X-Ray Spex,
June of 44,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Arab on Radar,
Goldenarms,
Popol Vuh,
Slick Rick,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mars,
Godley & Creme,
Mission of Burma,
The Birthday Party,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Motions,
Hot Snakes,
Drexciya,
The Real Kids,
Second Layer,
Thompson Twins,
Maleditus Sound,
Intrusion,
Soft Cell,
Ituana,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pere Ubu,
Cameo,
Lungfish,
Sight & Sound,
Oneida,
Chrome,
Dennis Brown,
Rites of Spring,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sonic Youth,
Minnie Riperton,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sparks,
Index,
Delta 5,
Buzzcocks,
Zero Boys,
Vainqueur,
The Cure,
Marshall Jefferson,
Janne Schatter,
Marc Almond,
Ken Boothe,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.