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 Malta and from Delhi.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Monks to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Pantytec,
Absolute Body Control,
Jeff Lynne,
Sun City Girls,
The Victims,
Eli Mardock,
Pole,
Suburban Knight,
Slave,
Lou Reed,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Gladiators,
Easy Going,
Ornette Coleman,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Andrew Hill,
Gong,
Radiohead,
Warsaw,
Wings,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Banda Bassotti,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Alphaville,
Stockholm Monsters,
Todd Terry,
The Smoke,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Brothers Johnson,
Symarip,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Chrome,
The Cosmic Jokers,
JFA,
Kerri Chandler,
The Wake,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Man Parrish,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pantaleimon,
Black Sheep,
Big Daddy Kane,
ABBA,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mo-Dettes,
The Index,
Yaz,
Jawbox,
The United States of America,
The Birthday Party,
Visage,
Warren Ellis,
Delon & Dalcan,
Organ,
The Slackers,
Gang of Four,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
David McCallum,
The Monks,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.