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 Serbia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pole to the electroclash 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 The Monochrome Set. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions 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 chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donny Hathaway,
Surgeon,
The Modern Lovers,
Eddi Front,
Todd Terry,
The Cramps,
Mars,
Sun City Girls,
Scientists,
U.S. Maple,
David McCallum,
The Grass Roots,
Jacob Miller,
Anthony Braxton,
Barrington Levy,
Soul II Soul,
Crash Course in Science,
Marvin Gaye,
The Techniques,
The Last Poets,
Dawn Penn,
The Raincoats,
Echospace,
Angry Samoans,
Kayak,
LL Cool J,
The Fuzztones,
Avey Tare,
The Fire Engines,
The Young Rascals,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Khruangbin,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mission of Burma,
Soft Cell,
Television,
K-Klass,
Underground Resistance,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Dual Sessions,
JFA,
Los Fastidios,
Lightning Bolt,
UT,
the Association,
Harry Pussy,
48th St. Collective,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Derrick Morgan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nils Olav,
L. Decosne,
Hasil Adkins,
The United States of America,
the Normal,
Donald Byrd,
Wings,
Altered Images,
Nirvana,
Chris & Cosey,
Metal Thangz,
Make Up,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.