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 Tonga and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 sitar 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the grime 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 The Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
The Birthday Party,
Das Ding,
Motorama,
Lower 48,
Al Stewart,
Barrington Levy,
Eric Copeland,
Depeche Mode,
The American Breed,
Ohio Players,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Slackers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Neu!,
Organ,
Grauzone,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Susan Cadogan,
Flipper,
The Count Five,
Quando Quango,
Donald Byrd,
Lee Hazlewood,
PIL,
Kaleidoscope,
Thompson Twins,
B.T. Express,
Eden Ahbez,
Freddie Wadling,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Blake Baxter,
Marine Girls,
Bizarre Inc.,
Scrapy,
Gerry Rafferty,
Matthew Bourne,
Soul Sonic Force,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Swans,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Black Dice,
The Misunderstood,
Icehouse,
The New Christs,
Pantytec,
X-102,
Cluster,
Yusef Lateef,
The Blues Magoos,
Half Japanese,
Black Flag,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
John Lydon,
Roger Hodgson,
Ultra Naté,
The Red Krayola,
Wasted Youth,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.