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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the oboe 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 John Lydon to the rock 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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dark Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wire,
Letta Mbulu,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kerri Chandler,
Joe Smooth,
Big Daddy Kane,
Althea and Donna,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Neu!,
Joensuu 1685,
Curtis Mayfield,
Prince Buster,
Visage,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Cramps,
Roger Hodgson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jeff Lynne,
Bauhaus,
Absolute Body Control,
Liliput,
The Modern Lovers,
The Beau Brummels,
The Martian,
The Motions,
The Birthday Party,
Harpers Bizarre,
Iggy Pop,
Black Bananas,
John Cale,
Eric Copeland,
Sight & Sound,
The Last Poets,
Crime,
The Detroit Cobras,
Delon & Dalcan,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bill Wells,
Bill Near,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Lyres,
Television,
Chris & Cosey,
Tim Buckley,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cal Tjader,
The Angels of Light,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Sound,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Doobie Brothers,
Niagra,
Marvin Gaye,
KRS-One,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Don Cherry,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
cv313,
The Techniques,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.