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 Portugal and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Man Eating Sloth to the punk 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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Blancmange,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Urselle,
Scratch Acid,
Ossler,
Mantronix,
The Martian,
Y Pants,
Bush Tetras,
Babytalk,
Eric Dolphy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Fortunes,
Rufus Thomas,
Malaria!,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bobby Byrd,
New Order,
the Germs,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Juan Atkins,
Swell Maps,
The Divine Comedy,
Pylon,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
John Foxx,
Franke,
Simply Red,
Royal Trux,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
T.S.O.L.,
Drive Like Jehu,
Leonard Cohen,
Shoche,
Toni Rubio,
Kayak,
Matthew Halsall,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Roxy Music,
Section 25,
X-101,
Pet Shop Boys,
Blake Baxter,
Electric Prunes,
Man Parrish,
kango's stein massive,
Grauzone,
The Names,
Aloha Tigers,
Letta Mbulu,
Radio Birdman,
Robert Wyatt,
Agent Orange,
DNA,
Gang Gang Dance,
Thee Headcoats,
The Birthday Party,
Alison Limerick,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.