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 Monaco and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 Stockholm Monsters to the disco 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Buckinghams 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bob Dylan,
Tropical Tobacco,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Interpol,
Wire,
Marc Almond,
Lou Christie,
Main Source,
Minor Threat,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Michelle Simonal,
Glenn Branca,
Youth Brigade,
Joy Division,
Popol Vuh,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Hardrive,
Roxy Music,
The Saints,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Buckinghams,
The Shadows of Knight,
Junior Murvin,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Cymande,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Index,
La Düsseldorf,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Wasted Youth,
John Lydon,
Tomorrow,
New Age Steppers,
the Slits,
Siglo XX,
a-ha,
Bill Near,
Donny Hathaway,
Boz Scaggs,
Terry Callier,
Jandek,
The Residents,
Whodini,
David McCallum,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sun City Girls,
D'Angelo,
Sun Ra,
Howard Jones,
Arab on Radar,
Pulsallama,
AZ,
The Pop Group,
The Selecter,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Scott Walker,
U.S. Maple,
June of 44,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.