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 Belize and from Halifax.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Sao Paulo.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Sarah Menescal to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mojo Men. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
EPMD,
Roxy Music,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bizarre Inc.,
Echospace,
Harmonia,
Bobby Sherman,
Rapeman,
Minnie Riperton,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Country Teasers,
Sister Nancy,
DNA,
The Count Five,
The Misunderstood,
New Age Steppers,
The Smoke,
Leonard Cohen,
Schoolly D,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Morten Harket,
The Mojo Men,
Cymande,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Massinfluence,
The New Christs,
The Skatalites,
Eden Ahbez,
Altered Images,
Fatback Band,
The Beau Brummels,
Fad Gadget,
Bauhaus,
Rhythm & Sound,
Johnny Clarke,
John Lydon,
Andrew Hill,
Basic Channel,
Kerri Chandler,
Tres Demented,
Fluxion,
Nas,
Banda Bassotti,
Agent Orange,
Toni Rubio,
F. McDonald,
World's Most,
X-102,
Skarface,
Brand Nubian,
Barry Ungar,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Main Source,
Fat Boys,
Roger Hodgson,
The Tremeloes,
The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement.
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.