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 Palau and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 organ 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 Johnny Clarke to the crunk 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 The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Harpers Bizarre tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doors record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
The Gladiators,
Thompson Twins,
David McCallum,
Throbbing Gristle,
L. Decosne,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sister Nancy,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Zeros,
Ultravox,
Pantytec,
The Barracudas,
Royal Trux,
Scientists,
Rekid,
Loose Ends,
Oblivians,
Talk Talk,
The Gap Band,
Reagan Youth,
Soft Cell,
The Monks,
Cymande,
Thee Headcoats,
Roy Ayers,
ABBA,
The Fire Engines,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Albert Ayler,
This Heat,
Absolute Body Control,
Blossom Toes,
Kayak,
Metal Thangz,
ABC,
Warren Ellis,
the Germs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dawn Penn,
Mary Jane Girls,
Barclay James Harvest,
Index,
The Move,
Funkadelic,
Japan,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Smiths,
Babytalk,
Black Sheep,
Unwound,
The Last Poets,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bluetip,
Au Pairs,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rapeman,
Banda Bassotti,
Derrick May,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.