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 Senegal and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 linndrum 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 Malaria! to the grime 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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
E-Dancer,
Buzzcocks,
Danielle Patucci,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Accadde A,
Michelle Simonal,
Tropical Tobacco,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Subhumans,
Lyres,
London Community Gospel Choir,
PIL,
The Monks,
The Remains,
Radiohead,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Thee Headcoats,
Harmonia,
Harpers Bizarre,
Section 25,
The Walker Brothers,
Mr. Review,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bill Wells,
Guru Guru,
The Trojans,
Flash Fearless,
The Knickerbockers,
Rosa Yemen,
Fort Wilson Riot,
MDC,
Gregory Isaacs,
Saccharine Trust,
Slave,
Easy Going,
Hardrive,
The Dave Clark Five,
Smog,
Slick Rick,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Fat Boys,
Wally Richardson,
Kas Product,
Harry Pussy,
Hoover,
the Human League,
Bang On A Can,
Fluxion,
Khruangbin,
Circle Jerks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Alarm Clocks,
Soft Machine,
Radio Birdman,
Judy Mowatt,
the Association,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Smoke,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.