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 Burundi and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 clarinet 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 Radiopuhelimet to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Dark Day,
Yazoo,
Jacob Miller,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Inner City,
Gang Green,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Minutemen,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Johnny Osbourne,
Fad Gadget,
L. Decosne,
Fugazi,
Connie Case,
Colin Newman,
Hardrive,
Delta 5,
Sun Ra,
Stiv Bators,
Chris & Cosey,
Popol Vuh,
Scion,
Rod Modell,
Audionom,
Danielle Patucci,
The Slackers,
Roy Ayers,
Henry Cow,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
John Cale,
Porter Ricks,
Rekid,
Whodini,
Gang of Four,
Radiopuhelimet,
Hoover,
LL Cool J,
Tommy Roe,
The Wake,
Roxy Music,
Basic Channel,
Lungfish,
Second Layer,
Pussy Galore,
The American Breed,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
48th St. Collective,
The Seeds,
Los Fastidios,
Ronan,
Patti Smith,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Organ,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Litter,
The Moody Blues,
Tubeway Army,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.