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 Georgia and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Glasgow.
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 marimba 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 Barclay James Harvest to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Jandek. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Raincoats 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joyce Sims,
Malaria!,
Darondo,
Fat Boys,
The Pretty Things,
Sparks,
The Walker Brothers,
Minnie Riperton,
Agent Orange,
Das Ding,
Joe Smooth,
The Slits,
Fear,
Sex Pistols,
Eddi Front,
Fort Wilson Riot,
8 Eyed Spy,
Symarip,
Sister Nancy,
The United States of America,
Dead Boys,
Scan 7,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Alison Limerick,
Glenn Branca,
Flipper,
Ice-T,
Ronan,
The Blues Magoos,
Steve Hackett,
Mad Mike,
Black Moon,
Peter & Gordon,
Lower 48,
Infiniti,
Excepter,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Connie Case,
Bill Wells,
Absolute Body Control,
H. Thieme,
Reagan Youth,
Fad Gadget,
Yazoo,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
China Crisis,
Marcia Griffiths,
Minor Threat,
Yellowson,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Oneida,
Terry Callier,
Kayak,
Panda Bear,
Soft Machine,
The Neon Judgement,
Second Layer,
The Fall,
The Monks,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.