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 Haiti and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tokyo.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gang of Four to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers 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 dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Connie Case,
Soulsonic Force,
Eddi Front,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Newcleus,
Lou Reed,
B.T. Express,
PIL,
T.S.O.L.,
The Barracudas,
Gil Scott Heron,
Crime,
Maleditus Sound,
Scan 7,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Can,
Scratch Acid,
Lightning Bolt,
Brass Construction,
Thee Headcoats,
The Moody Blues,
Prince Buster,
Minutemen,
Monolake,
Sonny Sharrock,
Depeche Mode,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The American Breed,
Interpol,
Arab on Radar,
The Fugs,
the Swans,
Lakeside,
Arthur Verocai,
Con Funk Shun,
Alice Coltrane,
Icehouse,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
MC5,
Steve Hackett,
The Human League,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Electric Prunes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Yazoo,
The Doors,
Royal Trux,
Pantytec,
Ultra Naté,
The Cowsills,
Erasure,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Misunderstood,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eve St. Jones,
Letta Mbulu,
Barrington Levy,
T. Rex,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.