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 Tunisia and from Taipei.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Thee Headcoats to the grime 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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiopuhelimet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Minutemen,
48th St. Collective,
Terrestrial Tones,
ABC,
Trumans Water,
Eden Ahbez,
Sex Pistols,
Yellowson,
Bill Near,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Swans,
The Remains,
Joey Negro,
Chrome,
Lalann,
Tres Demented,
Donald Byrd,
Piero Umiliani,
the Soft Cell,
Nick Fraelich,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sound Behaviour,
Connie Case,
Warsaw,
Lightning Bolt,
Pharoah Sanders,
Metal Thangz,
The Blackbyrds,
Althea and Donna,
Main Source,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Duran Duran,
Joy Division,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Zeros,
KRS-One,
Lou Reed,
The Angels of Light,
Boz Scaggs,
Thompson Twins,
Rosa Yemen,
Freddie Wadling,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
New Age Steppers,
This Heat,
Sällskapet,
Reagan Youth,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ice-T,
The Busters,
The Neon Judgement,
Rod Modell,
Unwound,
Sly & The Family Stone,
D'Angelo,
Roxy Music,
The Skatalites,
Fear,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.