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 Greece and from Columbus.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Grass Roots to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
The Slackers,
Nirvana,
Malaria!,
Josef K,
These Immortal Souls,
Amazonics,
Suburban Knight,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Barrington Levy,
Fluxion,
Organ,
Fugazi,
Erasure,
Ralphi Rosario,
D'Angelo,
The Offenders,
Black Flag,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marmalade,
Cluster,
Sällskapet,
Pulsallama,
In Retrospect,
The Red Krayola,
World's Most,
Harry Pussy,
Mr. Review,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lindisfarne,
The Fuzztones,
Lou Reed,
Bronski Beat,
Blancmange,
Underground Resistance,
The Gun Club,
Sound Behaviour,
Jeff Mills,
CMW,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Anthony Braxton,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
X-Ray Spex,
Hoover,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Clear Light,
Bush Tetras,
Wasted Youth,
Lucky Dragons,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eve St. Jones,
Gichy Dan,
Panda Bear,
Faust,
Pussy Galore,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.