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 Cameroon and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 arpeggiator 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 Steve Hackett to the techno 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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Charles Mingus,
The Five Americans,
Trumans Water,
Deadbeat,
Dual Sessions,
The Moleskins,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rapeman,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Boogie Down Productions,
Marc Almond,
The Vogues,
Japan,
Crispy Ambulance,
Deepchord,
Black Pus,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Oneida,
The Golliwogs,
Gabor Szabo,
F. McDonald,
the Germs,
Infiniti,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Wolf Eyes,
Main Source,
Electric Prunes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Quando Quango,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Warren Ellis,
Public Enemy,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Beau Brummels,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nico,
One Last Wish,
Procol Harum,
Severed Heads,
Swell Maps,
Lou Reed,
Carl Craig,
Deakin,
Mantronix,
Monks,
T.S.O.L.,
LL Cool J,
cv313,
Don Cherry,
Interpol,
Make Up,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tomorrow,
The Slits,
Thee Headcoats,
The Seeds,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.