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 Qatar and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 808 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 Jawbox to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
The Cowsills,
Bush Tetras,
The Alarm Clocks,
Excepter,
Stockholm Monsters,
X-Ray Spex,
Rufus Thomas,
The Star Department,
T.S.O.L.,
The Flesh Eaters,
Supertramp,
Joe Finger,
Althea and Donna,
The Pretty Things,
Bronski Beat,
Oneida,
Slick Rick,
The Gun Club,
Cameo,
Babytalk,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Deepchord,
Stiv Bators,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Searchers,
Arthur Verocai,
Jandek,
Bluetip,
Wolf Eyes,
Pet Shop Boys,
Boz Scaggs,
Masters at Work,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Sheep,
Black Moon,
Guru Guru,
The Walker Brothers,
Buzzcocks,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
the Association,
Organ,
Barrington Levy,
Lungfish,
Qualms,
Erasure,
The Smiths,
David Axelrod,
Bang On A Can,
Parry Music,
Albert Ayler,
Kerri Chandler,
Danielle Patucci,
Kas Product,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Move,
Soul II Soul,
Symarip,
Nas,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.