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 Ukraine and from Portland.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Black Bananas to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quando Quango record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
The Zeros,
Tommy Roe,
Spandau Ballet,
Bill Near,
Gichy Dan,
Chris Corsano,
Nation of Ulysses,
Depeche Mode,
Bootsy Collins,
Oblivians,
The Names,
Yaz,
10cc,
Lucky Dragons,
Johnny Clarke,
Eve St. Jones,
David Axelrod,
Mad Mike,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
EPMD,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
LL Cool J,
Young Marble Giants,
Sex Pistols,
The Pretty Things,
Duran Duran,
Ultravox,
Television,
H. Thieme,
Matthew Halsall,
Robert Wyatt,
Shoche,
the Soft Cell,
Little Man,
kango's stein massive,
Alice Coltrane,
Kurtis Blow,
Blancmange,
Althea and Donna,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Offenders,
Camouflage,
Brass Construction,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Kenny Larkin,
Davy DMX,
Heaven 17,
The Kinks,
Roxette,
In Retrospect,
Public Enemy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Von Mondo,
Nick Fraelich,
Public Image Ltd.,
Make Up,
Wings,
Stockholm Monsters,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.