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 Australia and from Mexico City.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Fuzztones to the funk 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
Gregory Isaacs,
ABBA,
Black Sheep,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Monks,
ABC,
Liliput,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Birthday Party,
James White and The Blacks,
cv313,
Lakeside,
Laurel Aitken,
The Walker Brothers,
KRS-One,
L. Decosne,
The United States of America,
Kas Product,
Davy DMX,
Bronski Beat,
Ronan,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Duran Duran,
The Detroit Cobras,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Remains,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Maleditus Sound,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pantaleimon,
Leonard Cohen,
The J.B.'s,
Scientists,
the Bar-Kays,
Vladislav Delay,
Essential Logic,
Sex Pistols,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Normal,
The Martian,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Barry Ungar,
Skaos,
Suicide,
The Trojans,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Beau Brummels,
John Foxx,
Wally Richardson,
Aaron Thompson,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jerry's Kids,
Roy Ayers,
Visage,
Half Japanese,
LL Cool J,
Moby Grape,
Cameo,
Tears for Fears,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.