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 Sri Lanka and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 linndrum 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 ABBA to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fuzztones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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?
The Electric Prunes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Blake Baxter,
The Detroit Cobras,
Barry Ungar,
Roxette,
The Moody Blues,
The Victims,
Dawn Penn,
Cluster,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Move,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Names,
Stockholm Monsters,
Wolf Eyes,
Motorama,
One Last Wish,
Panda Bear,
Japan,
Livin' Joy,
F. McDonald,
Matthew Halsall,
Roger Hodgson,
The Fugs,
Albert Ayler,
Jerry's Kids,
Alison Limerick,
Cal Tjader,
Cameo,
The Real Kids,
Can,
UT,
Amazonics,
Steve Hackett,
Glambeats Corp.,
Con Funk Shun,
Rufus Thomas,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
X-102,
the Fania All-Stars,
James White and The Blacks,
The United States of America,
Mark Hollis,
The Zeros,
Stetsasonic,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Alton Ellis,
Outsiders,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kaleidoscope,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Faust,
The Count Five,
Bluetip,
The Gap Band,
Maurizio,
Sound Behaviour,
John Coltrane,
Nico,
The Saints,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.