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 Tunisia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 guitar 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 Fatback Band to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gastr Del Sol,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bob Dylan,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mars,
Warsaw,
Pharoah Sanders,
X-101,
Michelle Simonal,
Howard Jones,
Grauzone,
The Doors,
Gang of Four,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Siglo XX,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Swans,
Magma,
Lower 48,
Charles Mingus,
Cymande,
Scan 7,
Bobby Sherman,
Joey Negro,
Desert Stars,
Can,
Kas Product,
The Dave Clark Five,
Parry Music,
Amon Düül II,
Isaac Hayes,
Ralphi Rosario,
Peter and Kerry,
Bill Near,
Rites of Spring,
Connie Case,
the Sonics,
Talk Talk,
The Associates,
Subhumans,
The Music Machine,
Warren Ellis,
Sun City Girls,
Yaz,
E-Dancer,
Fear,
The Sisters of Mercy,
B.T. Express,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lightning Bolt,
Depeche Mode,
Malaria!,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
David McCallum,
Fat Boys,
Saccharine Trust,
The Tremeloes,
The Modern Lovers,
Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord.
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.