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 Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Sao Paulo.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Saints to the rock 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 The Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lucky Dragons record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
Black Moon,
Delon & Dalcan,
Thompson Twins,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Colin Newman,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
the Sonics,
Mantronix,
Eric Copeland,
Wally Richardson,
The Gun Club,
The Knickerbockers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Morten Harket,
Minny Pops,
Procol Harum,
Desert Stars,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Silicon Teens,
Kerri Chandler,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eurythmics,
Duran Duran,
Freddie Wadling,
Swans,
ABC,
Basic Channel,
Pylon,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Youth Brigade,
Dead Boys,
DNA,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Stereo Dub,
Ponytail,
Pere Ubu,
The Cowsills,
Lou Reed,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cluster,
Nation of Ulysses,
Qualms,
Lalann,
A Flock of Seagulls,
John Coltrane,
The Kinks,
Pharoah Sanders,
Animal Collective,
New Order,
John Foxx,
Ronnie Foster,
Lakeside,
The Index,
Dennis Brown,
Suburban Knight,
Barry Ungar,
Japan,
Negative Approach,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.