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 Russia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Negative Approach to the jazz 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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Dead Boys,
Scientists,
Porter Ricks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
John Lydon,
John Cale,
Television,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
L. Decosne,
Crooked Eye,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Johnny Clarke,
Interpol,
Rekid,
Vladislav Delay,
The Fuzztones,
Skarface,
Kerri Chandler,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Steve Hackett,
The Stooges,
Minutemen,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Sonics,
Isaac Hayes,
Procol Harum,
Section 25,
Magma,
Oneida,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lalann,
Mr. Review,
Black Sheep,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tubeway Army,
The Gun Club,
Albert Ayler,
Yusef Lateef,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kurtis Blow,
Q and Not U,
10cc,
Unwound,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Robert Hood,
Urselle,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mary Jane Girls,
Davy DMX,
The Neon Judgement,
Underground Resistance,
Wally Richardson,
The Monochrome Set,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Y Pants,
Moby Grape,
DNA,
Tears for Fears,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Simply Red,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.