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 Jamaica and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Lou Reed 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 B.T. Express to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 of Four. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
MDC,
John Holt,
Quadrant,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bluetip,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Birthday Party,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Gregory Isaacs,
Al Stewart,
Ten City,
MC5,
Sparks,
The Evens,
Faust,
Wings,
Black Bananas,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Zero Boys,
Bobby Womack,
Gang Starr,
One Last Wish,
Underground Resistance,
Bang On A Can,
Prince Buster,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eli Mardock,
The Blackbyrds,
Godley & Creme,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Colin Newman,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ornette Coleman,
Motorama,
Moby Grape,
Niagra,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Angry Samoans,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
In Retrospect,
Agent Orange,
David Bowie,
Supertramp,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Names,
Byron Stingily,
The Doors,
Bob Dylan,
Mantronix,
Boogie Down Productions,
Accadde A,
The Gap Band,
Sex Pistols,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
Glenn Branca,
Pantaleimon,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.