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 Niger 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
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 Sun Ra Arkestra to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mighty Diamonds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
The Misunderstood,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Gun Club,
the Soft Cell,
Magazine,
Gabor Szabo,
Crash Course in Science,
Pharoah Sanders,
Khruangbin,
Tim Buckley,
Funky Four + One,
Pole,
Little Man,
Stockholm Monsters,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Dead C,
OOIOO,
Althea and Donna,
The Golliwogs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Monochrome Set,
The Count Five,
Thee Headcoats,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rod Modell,
Siglo XX,
Delta 5,
Joe Finger,
the Germs,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Birthday Party,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Hot Snakes,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Flesh Eaters,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Desert Stars,
Monks,
Minnie Riperton,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Severed Heads,
Marcia Griffiths,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Flipper,
Altered Images,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Arcadia,
Scientists,
The Blackbyrds,
Amon Düül,
Brick,
Nik Kershaw,
Inner City,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Remains,
Niagra,
Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen.
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.