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 Guinea-Bissau and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 oboe 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 The Alarm Clocks to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Fugazi,
Rekid,
The Knickerbockers,
Lightning Bolt,
The Martian,
Blake Baxter,
Soul II Soul,
Inner City,
Depeche Mode,
The New Christs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Neil Young,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Frankie Knuckles,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Newcleus,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fifty Foot Hose,
T. Rex,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Swell Maps,
The Fall,
Patti Smith,
The Modern Lovers,
Reagan Youth,
John Cale,
Andrew Hill,
ABC,
Johnny Osbourne,
Absolute Body Control,
Fat Boys,
Robert Hood,
These Immortal Souls,
Nick Fraelich,
Main Source,
Barry Ungar,
Glenn Branca,
Half Japanese,
Matthew Bourne,
The Misunderstood,
U.S. Maple,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Panda Bear,
Roxette,
The Tremeloes,
Lindisfarne,
Slave,
Don Cherry,
the Germs,
Nas,
Harmonia,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Leaves,
Aswad,
Grauzone,
Sex Pistols,
Parry Music,
Mars,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.