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 Equatorial Guinea and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ohio Players to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape 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?
Gregory Isaacs,
The Standells,
Grauzone,
Minutemen,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Quantec,
Can,
Yazoo,
Matthew Bourne,
Rekid,
the Normal,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ultra Naté,
Duran Duran,
Juan Atkins,
The New Christs,
Au Pairs,
Sun City Girls,
Wings,
The Velvet Underground,
The Electric Prunes,
The Count Five,
Bobby Sherman,
Sonny Sharrock,
Curtis Mayfield,
Man Parrish,
Marvin Gaye,
Buzzcocks,
Sparks,
Judy Mowatt,
Lucky Dragons,
The Birthday Party,
Fela Kuti,
John Foxx,
Ronan,
The Neon Judgement,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gang of Four,
Circle Jerks,
Michelle Simonal,
June of 44,
Marc Almond,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kurtis Blow,
Idris Muhammad,
Bang On A Can,
Scan 7,
The Red Krayola,
Amon Düül,
cv313,
Archie Shepp,
Kenny Larkin,
Loose Ends,
Average White Band,
Kas Product,
Sexual Harrassment,
Drexciya,
Cheater Slicks,
Joensuu 1685,
Toni Rubio,
The Move,
D'Angelo,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.