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 Libya and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 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 Grandmaster Flash to the crunk 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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Half Japanese record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
Eden Ahbez,
Excepter,
Connie Case,
Jacques Brel,
Dennis Brown,
Laurel Aitken,
Soulsonic Force,
Letta Mbulu,
The Names,
Dead Boys,
The Residents,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Max Romeo,
Dark Day,
Franke,
China Crisis,
Brass Construction,
The Young Rascals,
The Doors,
Alison Limerick,
The Cramps,
Circle Jerks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Guru Guru,
Mars,
The Victims,
Q and Not U,
Danielle Patucci,
Skriet,
The Monochrome Set,
Ralphi Rosario,
Eli Mardock,
Young Marble Giants,
Sister Nancy,
The Wake,
John Coltrane,
Arthur Verocai,
The Techniques,
Reuben Wilson,
The Pop Group,
Joey Negro,
Nation of Ulysses,
AZ,
Das Ding,
Ultimate Spinach,
Shuggie Otis,
Mark Hollis,
The Velvet Underground,
Deadbeat,
Parry Music,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mo-Dettes,
Vladislav Delay,
Swans,
Jesper Dahlback,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jerry's Kids,
John Foxx,
Nirvana,
Boogie Down Productions,
a-ha,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.