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 Argentina and from Lagos.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Patti Smith to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Ronan,
The Stooges,
Radio Birdman,
Connie Case,
Blancmange,
Au Pairs,
Althea and Donna,
Little Man,
Silicon Teens,
Bobby Byrd,
The Monks,
X-Ray Spex,
The Remains,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Radiopuhelimet,
X-102,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pussy Galore,
La Düsseldorf,
Faust,
China Crisis,
Procol Harum,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ronnie Foster,
Television,
Anthony Braxton,
Judy Mowatt,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Fat Boys,
Saccharine Trust,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jacob Miller,
Animal Collective,
Joyce Sims,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Aaron Thompson,
Massinfluence,
The Victims,
Porter Ricks,
Ornette Coleman,
Dual Sessions,
Sound Behaviour,
JFA,
Skaos,
The Buckinghams,
Fear,
James White and The Blacks,
Barrington Levy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Electric Prunes,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rhythm & Sound,
Steve Hackett,
Girls At Our Best!,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Mummies,
Lalo Schifrin,
Infiniti,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Alphaville,
John Holt,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.