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 Uruguay and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 organ 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 Eddi Front to the rock 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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dave Clark Five,
Essential Logic,
Khruangbin,
The Raincoats,
The Fugs,
Alice Coltrane,
The Cure,
Mark Hollis,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gong,
The Pretty Things,
Spoonie Gee,
The Leaves,
Pagans,
Franke,
Camouflage,
D'Angelo,
A Certain Ratio,
John Cale,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Marine Girls,
Index,
Das Ding,
The Index,
Agitation Free,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kenny Larkin,
Isaac Hayes,
The Doobie Brothers,
Vladislav Delay,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Man Eating Sloth,
Iggy Pop,
Stetsasonic,
The Electric Prunes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Easy Going,
Amon Düül,
Cymande,
The Smiths,
Ohio Players,
Jawbox,
Darondo,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Heaven 17,
cv313,
E-Dancer,
The New Christs,
Severed Heads,
Angry Samoans,
Popol Vuh,
Marmalade,
EPMD,
Q and Not U,
Wolf Eyes,
Barry Ungar,
Nils Olav,
Barbara Tucker,
Howard Jones,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.