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 Croatia and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Stockholm.
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 organ 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 Kevin Saunderson to the grunge 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 Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Pierre Henry,
10cc,
Mark Hollis,
Porter Ricks,
The Associates,
Leonard Cohen,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lou Christie,
Byron Stingily,
David Bowie,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Das Ding,
Gerry Rafferty,
Radio Birdman,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Black Pus,
Roxy Music,
MC5,
Electric Prunes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Davy DMX,
Lindisfarne,
The American Breed,
Man Eating Sloth,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
OOIOO,
Lebanon Hanover,
Harmonia,
Nils Olav,
The Five Americans,
Black Moon,
David McCallum,
Con Funk Shun,
Pussy Galore,
Rakim,
Althea and Donna,
Second Layer,
Dark Day,
One Last Wish,
Erasure,
48th St. Collective,
Spandau Ballet,
Joyce Sims,
Newcleus,
The Raincoats,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Boz Scaggs,
the Normal,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Whodini,
Crash Course in Science,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bluetip,
Matthew Halsall,
The Saints,
Bobby Byrd,
The Velvet Underground,
Tommy Roe,
James White and The Blacks,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.