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 Poland and from Portland.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Babytalk to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sunsets and Hearts record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Nils Olav,
Marshall Jefferson,
Maurizio,
Robert Wyatt,
Tres Demented,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bob Dylan,
Duran Duran,
Byron Stingily,
James White and The Blacks,
Mad Mike,
June of 44,
Soulsonic Force,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Harmonia,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Fortunes,
Nik Kershaw,
Loose Ends,
The Move,
Morten Harket,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Black Bananas,
The Durutti Column,
Mandrill,
Janne Schatter,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Dead C,
Rotary Connection,
Camberwell Now,
Oblivians,
Yellowson,
Fluxion,
The Skatalites,
Smog,
Black Sheep,
Ohio Players,
Ten City,
Royal Trux,
The Names,
Warren Ellis,
The Cowsills,
Eric Dolphy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Tomorrow,
Delta 5,
Archie Shepp,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
the Normal,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Tommy Roe,
Siglo XX,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Bar-Kays,
Soft Machine,
Kool Moe Dee,
Japan,
David Axelrod,
Half Japanese,
One Last Wish,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.