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 Nepal and from New York.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 harpsichord 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 Barry Ungar to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marvin Gaye,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Heaven 17,
The Modern Lovers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Searchers,
Mars,
Japan,
Carl Craig,
Anakelly,
Quando Quango,
The Slits,
Lightning Bolt,
Skriet,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Janne Schatter,
Connie Case,
UT,
Don Cherry,
Nico,
Flipper,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Music Machine,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Martian,
The Gories,
Crispy Ambulance,
Qualms,
Suicide,
The Divine Comedy,
The Dead C,
Pantytec,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Stiv Bators,
The Skatalites,
Skaos,
Sällskapet,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Brick,
Terry Callier,
Faust,
Clear Light,
Public Enemy,
Eden Ahbez,
Agent Orange,
The Slackers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Toni Rubio,
Unrelated Segments,
The Trojans,
Tim Buckley,
Jacques Brel,
Main Source,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tom Boy,
The Star Department,
The Neon Judgement,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.