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 Estonia and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Country Teasers to the punk 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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Au Pairs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Pussy Galore,
Scrapy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Fad Gadget,
Ultra Naté,
Tres Demented,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Quando Quango,
The Star Department,
R.M.O.,
Albert Ayler,
Circle Jerks,
Cameo,
LL Cool J,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Beau Brummels,
Rufus Thomas,
Pulsallama,
Freddie Wadling,
The Music Machine,
The Cowsills,
Little Man,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Oblivians,
Icehouse,
Scan 7,
Y Pants,
Janne Schatter,
the Soft Cell,
Ornette Coleman,
Lungfish,
La Düsseldorf,
Das Ding,
Ohio Players,
Subhumans,
Dual Sessions,
Mars,
Mad Mike,
Trumans Water,
Leonard Cohen,
Surgeon,
New Age Steppers,
Flash Fearless,
KRS-One,
E-Dancer,
Bad Manners,
The Detroit Cobras,
Los Fastidios,
The Red Krayola,
Wasted Youth,
The Blues Magoos,
Davy DMX,
Jacob Miller,
The Human League,
AZ,
the Normal,
The Pretty Things,
New York Dolls,
Sun City Girls,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.