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 Tajikistan and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 arpeggiator 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 Q and Not U to the crunk 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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Patti Smith,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Suicide,
Youth Brigade,
Sandy B,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Malaria!,
Juan Atkins,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Kinks,
Khruangbin,
Sight & Sound,
Deakin,
the Association,
Matthew Bourne,
Piero Umiliani,
Darondo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Neon Judgement,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bobby Sherman,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Nik Kershaw,
R.M.O.,
Con Funk Shun,
Gabor Szabo,
PIL,
Sugar Minott,
Erykah Badu,
Bootsy Collins,
Whodini,
Pantytec,
Simply Red,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jeru the Damaja,
Robert Hood,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bronski Beat,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Standells,
Franke,
Amon Düül,
Pylon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rhythm & Sound,
Erasure,
The Residents,
Eric Dolphy,
Eric Copeland,
The Remains,
Lee Hazlewood,
kango's stein massive,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sarah Menescal,
This Heat,
Urselle,
The Gories,
Archie Shepp,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.