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 Mozambique and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 linndrum 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 Blake Baxter to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Von Mondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Birthday Party,
Amazonics,
Bobby Womack,
Peter and Kerry,
The Neon Judgement,
The Walker Brothers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Moody Blues,
The Detroit Cobras,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Piero Umiliani,
Johnny Osbourne,
Agitation Free,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Chris & Cosey,
Bang On A Can,
Radiohead,
The Monks,
Tomorrow,
Marc Almond,
Yaz,
Bob Dylan,
Todd Terry,
Pussy Galore,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Isaac Hayes,
OOIOO,
Dual Sessions,
Qualms,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Sound,
Parry Music,
Bootsy Collins,
Joyce Sims,
The Blues Magoos,
Ronan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fat Boys,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Man Parrish,
The Trojans,
Sam Rivers,
Rakim,
The Evens,
Quadrant,
Duran Duran,
Spandau Ballet,
Black Pus,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Misunderstood,
Ponytail,
Chris Corsano,
Matthew Halsall,
Symarip,
Whodini,
The New Christs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
JFA,
The Associates,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.