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 Namibia and from Glasgow.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Dead C 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 In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Victims,
Soulsonic Force,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Das Ding,
Popol Vuh,
Gang Green,
Negative Approach,
Dark Day,
Tommy Roe,
World's Most,
The Busters,
Eric Dolphy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
8 Eyed Spy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Amon Düül II,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sexual Harrassment,
Aswad,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Neon Judgement,
June of 44,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Main Source,
The Grass Roots,
Blancmange,
Piero Umiliani,
Rapeman,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Quantec,
The Stooges,
Boz Scaggs,
Soft Machine,
The J.B.'s,
The New Christs,
Black Bananas,
Alice Coltrane,
The Mojo Men,
Black Sheep,
Unwound,
The Music Machine,
Hot Snakes,
cv313,
R.M.O.,
Heaven 17,
Von Mondo,
Bad Manners,
Bronski Beat,
Jacques Brel,
Parry Music,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Count Five,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.