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 San Marino and from Milan.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Jawbox to the grunge 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 Judy Mowatt. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Urselle,
ABBA,
Bob Dylan,
MDC,
Swell Maps,
the Normal,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Angels of Light,
Black Moon,
The Mojo Men,
Derrick Morgan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Monks,
The Invisible,
Fluxion,
Mantronix,
Jawbox,
The Five Americans,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ronan,
Scratch Acid,
Y Pants,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sugar Minott,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gichy Dan,
Mad Mike,
Technova,
Susan Cadogan,
One Last Wish,
Lindisfarne,
Sällskapet,
Talk Talk,
X-102,
Jacob Miller,
The Associates,
Angry Samoans,
Loose Ends,
Saccharine Trust,
Jacques Brel,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Laurel Aitken,
The Blues Magoos,
Lyres,
Minnie Riperton,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Circle Jerks,
John Foxx,
Oneida,
The Evens,
The Tremeloes,
Neil Young,
Ossler,
Bad Manners,
Sound Behaviour,
The Busters,
Minutemen,
Sister Nancy,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.