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 Japan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Leonard Cohen to the crunk 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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
Procol Harum,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Joe Smooth,
Bush Tetras,
Tomorrow,
Franke,
Masters at Work,
The Stooges,
The Victims,
Eddi Front,
Cal Tjader,
Dark Day,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jandek,
The Blues Magoos,
The Last Poets,
Severed Heads,
Sparks,
Letta Mbulu,
Model 500,
Hardrive,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nas,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Popol Vuh,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sällskapet,
Animal Collective,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Eve St. Jones,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bizarre Inc.,
Frankie Knuckles,
Anakelly,
Electric Prunes,
Main Source,
Mo-Dettes,
The Velvet Underground,
Donald Byrd,
Clear Light,
T.S.O.L.,
Scratch Acid,
Vainqueur,
One Last Wish,
Absolute Body Control,
Wally Richardson,
The Smoke,
Dead Boys,
The Music Machine,
Kas Product,
Cluster,
Ken Boothe,
Au Pairs,
The Moleskins,
Bauhaus,
The Doors,
Gerry Rafferty,
Warsaw,
Hot Snakes,
Supertramp,
Fat Boys,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.