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 Comoros and from Jakarta.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Toronto.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the guitar 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 Cecil Taylor to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) 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 linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sunsets and Hearts record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
H. Thieme,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rod Modell,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Idris Muhammad,
Joe Smooth,
Black Pus,
FM Einheit,
The Busters,
June Days,
Aswad,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ornette Coleman,
The Smoke,
Andrew Hill,
Organ,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jacob Miller,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Soft Cell,
The Fire Engines,
Grauzone,
A Certain Ratio,
Saccharine Trust,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Shadows of Knight,
Y Pants,
Procol Harum,
Erasure,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pantytec,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lalo Schifrin,
Swell Maps,
Quando Quango,
The Last Poets,
Q65,
Pharoah Sanders,
The United States of America,
Scratch Acid,
Negative Approach,
Deepchord,
R.M.O.,
Mission of Burma,
Qualms,
Young Marble Giants,
Zero Boys,
Fat Boys,
Scan 7,
Whodini,
Steve Hackett,
Barrington Levy,
The Fall,
Silicon Teens,
Public Enemy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bobby Sherman,
Eve St. Jones,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.