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 Solomon Islands and from Mumbai.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 Joyce Sims to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sex Pistols,
The Searchers,
Y Pants,
Rites of Spring,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Vainqueur,
Crime,
Kurtis Blow,
The Smiths,
Hot Snakes,
Interpol,
Lucky Dragons,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Fatback Band,
Jerry's Kids,
Funkadelic,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eddi Front,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Blackbyrds,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Josef K,
Visage,
Easy Going,
Audionom,
Au Pairs,
The Saints,
The Dirtbombs,
Q65,
These Immortal Souls,
R.M.O.,
Rapeman,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jacob Miller,
Unrelated Segments,
Rosa Yemen,
Los Fastidios,
Wally Richardson,
the Slits,
Fad Gadget,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ultimate Spinach,
H. Thieme,
Urselle,
Camouflage,
Alison Limerick,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Music Machine,
Donny Hathaway,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sight & Sound,
Quadrant,
Excepter,
X-101,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.