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 Poland and from Madrid.
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 Manila and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band 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 The Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Henry Cow,
Soft Cell,
MDC,
Agent Orange,
The Stooges,
Sonic Youth,
Stereo Dub,
The Durutti Column,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Dead C,
Mo-Dettes,
The Monks,
Moss Icon,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pole,
Neu!,
Bobby Sherman,
Ken Boothe,
The Fall,
Jeff Lynne,
Tom Boy,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Pantytec,
The Star Department,
Ultra Naté,
Sex Pistols,
Tres Demented,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gerry Rafferty,
New Age Steppers,
Cheater Slicks,
The Tremeloes,
Aloha Tigers,
Cymande,
Can,
Jeru the Damaja,
Faraquet,
Newcleus,
Joensuu 1685,
The Doobie Brothers,
KRS-One,
Jacob Miller,
The Slackers,
The Techniques,
Nils Olav,
Saccharine Trust,
Bob Dylan,
Magma,
Gichy Dan,
FM Einheit,
Man Parrish,
Idris Muhammad,
Motorama,
Jacques Brel,
Graham Central Station,
Moby Grape,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ronnie Foster,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.