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 Jamaica and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gerry Rafferty 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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
CMW,
Das Ding,
Sex Pistols,
Janne Schatter,
Organ,
Marine Girls,
The Moleskins,
Pole,
Lalo Schifrin,
Aloha Tigers,
June of 44,
Depeche Mode,
Groovy Waters,
H. Thieme,
Don Cherry,
The Raincoats,
Alice Coltrane,
Bauhaus,
Porter Ricks,
MC5,
Pere Ubu,
Ultra Naté,
Zapp,
The Five Americans,
48th St. Collective,
Ossler,
Alton Ellis,
Todd Rundgren,
Peter and Kerry,
Bill Wells,
Laurel Aitken,
cv313,
Blancmange,
The Motions,
Robert Wyatt,
Byron Stingily,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Judy Mowatt,
Eurythmics,
Junior Murvin,
Danielle Patucci,
The Mojo Men,
Stockholm Monsters,
D'Angelo,
The Smiths,
Popol Vuh,
OOIOO,
Kas Product,
The Evens,
Wire,
Lalann,
Skaos,
Dark Day,
The Gun Club,
Tim Buckley,
Los Fastidios,
Tom Boy,
The Residents,
Jawbox,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.