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 Yemen and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 güiro 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 The Angels of Light to the rock 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 Nation of Ulysses. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 spring reverb and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Scan 7,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Skriet,
Curtis Mayfield,
Circle Jerks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Niagra,
Bobby Sherman,
Scott Walker,
The Alarm Clocks,
Popol Vuh,
Dead Boys,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Minor Threat,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Moby Grape,
Neu!,
E-Dancer,
The Knickerbockers,
Malaria!,
The Dirtbombs,
Aloha Tigers,
Pere Ubu,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gang Starr,
Chris Corsano,
Amon Düül,
Grey Daturas,
Interpol,
Ken Boothe,
Fear,
Rod Modell,
Fad Gadget,
Bill Wells,
The Skatalites,
AZ,
Wally Richardson,
Wasted Youth,
LL Cool J,
Eric Dolphy,
La Düsseldorf,
Pet Shop Boys,
James White and The Blacks,
Black Pus,
Rapeman,
Don Cherry,
The Neon Judgement,
Unrelated Segments,
the Germs,
Ludus,
The Fuzztones,
Radio Birdman,
Tomorrow,
New York Dolls,
The Angels of Light,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Khruangbin,
New Order,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Moebius,
Q and Not U,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.