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 Tanzania and from Seoul.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Eric Copeland to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
PIL,
Cluster,
Fugazi,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Hardrive,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ornette Coleman,
Chris Corsano,
B.T. Express,
Country Teasers,
Sugar Minott,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jacques Brel,
Roger Hodgson,
The Sonics,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fatback Band,
Tears for Fears,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Steve Hackett,
Sällskapet,
The Count Five,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jeff Mills,
Jerry's Kids,
The Offenders,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Agitation Free,
Arcadia,
The Leaves,
Adolescents,
The Moleskins,
June Days,
The Pretty Things,
Alice Coltrane,
Harry Pussy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Deepchord,
Scientists,
Minutemen,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Fall,
Rites of Spring,
Wire,
Jandek,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lakeside,
The Young Rascals,
Heaven 17,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Cymande,
Minnie Riperton,
Wings,
Vainqueur,
The Monks,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.