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 Haiti and from Salvador.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 rhodes 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 Deadbeat to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
Tropical Tobacco,
Parry Music,
Little Man,
Pylon,
Black Flag,
The Names,
Whodini,
Carl Craig,
Amon Düül,
Ituana,
Albert Ayler,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Can,
Joe Finger,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Accadde A,
New Age Steppers,
Simply Red,
Masters at Work,
CMW,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Tremeloes,
Jeff Lynne,
a-ha,
Bauhaus,
Silicon Teens,
Big Daddy Kane,
kango's stein massive,
KRS-One,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Circle Jerks,
DNA,
Darondo,
Roxette,
Freddie Wadling,
Moby Grape,
Radiopuhelimet,
Cal Tjader,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Cameo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sex Pistols,
Laurel Aitken,
Zapp,
Ludus,
The Mummies,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Spandau Ballet,
Barclay James Harvest,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Kinks,
Bobby Byrd,
The Shadows of Knight,
Byron Stingily,
The Cramps,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
the Sonics,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.