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 Bolivia and from Toronto.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Quando Quango to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Essential Logic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars 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 '60s 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 Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Skatalites,
Mr. Review,
The Stooges,
Susan Cadogan,
Qualms,
Michelle Simonal,
Ludus,
Bronski Beat,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Toni Rubio,
Sam Rivers,
Make Up,
Matthew Bourne,
Lucky Dragons,
The Electric Prunes,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rosa Yemen,
The J.B.'s,
Nation of Ulysses,
Radio Birdman,
John Holt,
Bill Near,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Birthday Party,
The Evens,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Aaron Thompson,
Alphaville,
Marvin Gaye,
Model 500,
Fat Boys,
Gang Starr,
The Smoke,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Alton Ellis,
Thompson Twins,
Grauzone,
Second Layer,
Wings,
The Fortunes,
Newcleus,
Sex Pistols,
Gabor Szabo,
Mad Mike,
Prince Buster,
The Last Poets,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Blues Magoos,
Junior Murvin,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Crispian St. Peters,
Negative Approach,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Five Americans,
Don Cherry,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kas Product,
Desert Stars,
Cluster,
The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five.
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.