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 Malawi and from London.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 organ 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
The Busters,
Lou Christie,
Anthony Braxton,
Toni Rubio,
Dual Sessions,
The Litter,
Young Marble Giants,
Terry Callier,
The Slackers,
The Gladiators,
The Divine Comedy,
Jawbox,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Raincoats,
Urselle,
Whodini,
Panda Bear,
Marvin Gaye,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rites of Spring,
Con Funk Shun,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Selecter,
cv313,
The Fugs,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Derrick May,
The Vogues,
The Smoke,
Bad Manners,
Fluxion,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sparks,
Ultravox,
Tomorrow,
Half Japanese,
Shuggie Otis,
Liliput,
Scrapy,
The Moleskins,
The Last Poets,
Nico,
Eric Dolphy,
The Trojans,
Silicon Teens,
Juan Atkins,
Siglo XX,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Chris Corsano,
Wasted Youth,
Organ,
Fad Gadget,
Brass Construction,
Warren Ellis,
Ten City,
Soul II Soul,
Bob Dylan,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Altered Images,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.