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 Papua New Guinea and from Mexico City.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Swans to the punk 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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Maleditus Sound,
Albert Ayler,
Cheater Slicks,
Motorama,
China Crisis,
Cal Tjader,
Jerry's Kids,
Leonard Cohen,
The Dirtbombs,
Nils Olav,
Mars,
Sarah Menescal,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Whodini,
James Chance & The Contortions,
MC5,
Stetsasonic,
Jacques Brel,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Shuggie Otis,
Kurtis Blow,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nik Kershaw,
Goldenarms,
Peter & Gordon,
Prince Buster,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Juan Atkins,
Young Marble Giants,
Groovy Waters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cybotron,
Eric Copeland,
Tom Boy,
Davy DMX,
Dark Day,
Gang of Four,
Patti Smith,
The Smiths,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sixth Finger,
Black Moon,
The Golliwogs,
Brass Construction,
Ken Boothe,
The Names,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bauhaus,
Country Teasers,
The Last Poets,
Q65,
Kerri Chandler,
Malaria!,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Monolake,
The Detroit Cobras,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.