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 Ghana and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the guitar 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 Tomorrow to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
Y Pants,
Girls At Our Best!,
Unwound,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Sound,
The New Christs,
The Neon Judgement,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ice-T,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Fad Gadget,
Eve St. Jones,
Minutemen,
Dual Sessions,
Tom Boy,
Main Source,
Patti Smith,
Tubeway Army,
Schoolly D,
Qualms,
Easy Going,
Eurythmics,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Gap Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
Khruangbin,
The Cramps,
The Cure,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ponytail,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sam Rivers,
Gichy Dan,
Kerri Chandler,
Liliput,
MDC,
Fat Boys,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bobby Sherman,
Franke,
Letta Mbulu,
Sister Nancy,
The Smoke,
Bronski Beat,
Maurizio,
Roger Hodgson,
Intrusion,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sarah Menescal,
Kas Product,
These Immortal Souls,
Crash Course in Science,
CMW,
the Bar-Kays,
Cluster,
Mantronix,
Rufus Thomas,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Wake,
ABC,
Reagan Youth,
The Gladiators,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch.
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.