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 Tajikistan and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the punk 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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marine Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
The Sound,
Yellowson,
Saccharine Trust,
Whodini,
T. Rex,
Nation of Ulysses,
Glenn Branca,
Mo-Dettes,
Pulsallama,
Faraquet,
Zapp,
Ponytail,
The Mojo Men,
Cybotron,
Michelle Simonal,
Janne Schatter,
Y Pants,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pagans,
Funky Four + One,
Thee Headcoats,
Kevin Saunderson,
Drexciya,
David McCallum,
R.M.O.,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sparks,
Steve Hackett,
New Order,
Fugazi,
The New Christs,
Johnny Clarke,
Subhumans,
Sexual Harrassment,
Zero Boys,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Delta 5,
Bang On A Can,
Surgeon,
Lungfish,
Bobby Byrd,
Dual Sessions,
The Fortunes,
The Slits,
The Happenings,
Moebius,
Black Moon,
June Days,
The Saints,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fear,
Gabor Szabo,
Bluetip,
Skarface,
MDC,
Kaleidoscope,
China Crisis,
Hoover,
JFA,
Lakeside,
The Residents,
Youth Brigade,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.