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 Nicaragua and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the 808 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 Fat Boys to the techno 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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Mr. Review,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Charles Mingus,
Kas Product,
F. McDonald,
Moebius,
EPMD,
Sam Rivers,
Joyce Sims,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Rosa Yemen,
The Raincoats,
Black Flag,
Ludus,
Black Bananas,
Banda Bassotti,
Fugazi,
Funkadelic,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Skriet,
Nas,
Country Teasers,
Warsaw,
Bush Tetras,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Misunderstood,
The Names,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rod Modell,
Dawn Penn,
The Moleskins,
Howard Jones,
Popol Vuh,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Con Funk Shun,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Evens,
China Crisis,
Laurel Aitken,
Crash Course in Science,
Marine Girls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Darondo,
Todd Rundgren,
Alison Limerick,
Ken Boothe,
The Electric Prunes,
In Retrospect,
Hasil Adkins,
X-Ray Spex,
Panda Bear,
Bootsy Collins,
Quadrant,
Prince Buster,
The Litter,
Tomorrow,
Mo-Dettes,
Infiniti,
Judy Mowatt,
Al Stewart,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.