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 Kyrgyzstan and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Banda Bassotti to the punk 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 The Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Lakeside tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
The Residents,
The Electric Prunes,
Tres Demented,
Bauhaus,
The Barracudas,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Arab on Radar,
Simply Red,
Susan Cadogan,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Spandau Ballet,
Minor Threat,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nils Olav,
The Blues Magoos,
Archie Shepp,
Matthew Halsall,
Man Parrish,
China Crisis,
Nation of Ulysses,
John Lydon,
Black Pus,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Q65,
Cybotron,
Dennis Brown,
Mission of Burma,
Junior Murvin,
Echospace,
Black Moon,
R.M.O.,
Jimmy McGriff,
Wolf Eyes,
Tears for Fears,
Anthony Braxton,
Harmonia,
Metal Thangz,
Grandmaster Flash,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Davy DMX,
Boz Scaggs,
The Walker Brothers,
Graham Central Station,
Saccharine Trust,
Flash Fearless,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Barry Ungar,
Liliput,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Black Dice,
Urselle,
The Victims,
Blake Baxter,
The Monks,
Model 500,
Theoretical Girls,
Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX.
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.