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 Saudi Arabia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Albert Ayler to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a UT record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
The Mojo Men,
Half Japanese,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eric Copeland,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ultravox,
Roxy Music,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jacques Brel,
Hardrive,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Stiv Bators,
New Age Steppers,
Hasil Adkins,
Bobby Womack,
Can,
Funky Four + One,
X-102,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eve St. Jones,
Kerrie Biddell,
E-Dancer,
Mad Mike,
Con Funk Shun,
Quando Quango,
Hot Snakes,
The Victims,
Heaven 17,
The Techniques,
Hoover,
The Smiths,
Terry Callier,
Excepter,
Brass Construction,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tim Buckley,
New Order,
Rakim,
Tommy Roe,
Subhumans,
Sun City Girls,
Minnie Riperton,
The Pop Group,
The Motions,
the Swans,
Tears for Fears,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Robert Görl,
John Holt,
Dawn Penn,
Sight & Sound,
Joe Finger,
Pantytec,
Von Mondo,
Juan Atkins,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
R.M.O.,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.