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 San Marino and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 güiro 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 Pole to the jazz 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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gil Scott Heron,
Carl Craig,
The Smiths,
The Star Department,
Roxette,
Jeff Lynne,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Blackbyrds,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Barracudas,
Quadrant,
Visage,
Vainqueur,
Livin' Joy,
Reuben Wilson,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Flesh Eaters,
Electric Prunes,
Minnie Riperton,
PIL,
Buzzcocks,
Judy Mowatt,
X-102,
Albert Ayler,
Funky Four + One,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Durutti Column,
Bobby Byrd,
Dead Boys,
Symarip,
Quando Quango,
Young Marble Giants,
The Misunderstood,
Pere Ubu,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Tim Buckley,
Grauzone,
Essential Logic,
The Detroit Cobras,
Monolake,
Brand Nubian,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Skaos,
Letta Mbulu,
Kurtis Blow,
Peter and Kerry,
Rekid,
Whodini,
Q65,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Erasure,
Severed Heads,
Chris Corsano,
Scan 7,
The Knickerbockers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Desert Stars,
Parry Music,
Ornette Coleman,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.