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 Djibouti and from Lyon.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 güiro 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 The Gun Club to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
Crime,
Kenny Larkin,
Junior Murvin,
Joensuu 1685,
Cameo,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Avey Tare,
Isaac Hayes,
Boredoms,
Monks,
Roxette,
The Tremeloes,
The Mojo Men,
Mars,
Wings,
Ponytail,
Ken Boothe,
The Beau Brummels,
David McCallum,
Chrome,
The Doobie Brothers,
June of 44,
Grey Daturas,
The United States of America,
Yusef Lateef,
Anakelly,
Amazonics,
Angry Samoans,
Ten City,
Matthew Halsall,
Arthur Verocai,
Eve St. Jones,
a-ha,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Cymande,
Make Up,
The Busters,
Ultra Naté,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Dirtbombs,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Human League,
The Red Krayola,
Jacques Brel,
Kerri Chandler,
Sarah Menescal,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bobby Womack,
Aswad,
Fugazi,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
In Retrospect,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
John Foxx,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.