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 Djibouti and from Milan.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Eli Mardock to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Modern Lovers,
Alton Ellis,
KRS-One,
Alphaville,
Michelle Simonal,
Donny Hathaway,
June of 44,
Bush Tetras,
Albert Ayler,
Animal Collective,
Derrick May,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bauhaus,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Flamin' Groovies,
Letta Mbulu,
Oneida,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Marc Almond,
Marcia Griffiths,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Toasters,
Flash Fearless,
Loose Ends,
Lungfish,
Freddie Wadling,
Arcadia,
The Seeds,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Gerry Rafferty,
Roxette,
The Grass Roots,
John Holt,
Circle Jerks,
Crooked Eye,
Delta 5,
The Moleskins,
Crime,
Deakin,
Thompson Twins,
The Gap Band,
Terry Callier,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Soft Machine,
Young Marble Giants,
Althea and Donna,
Unwound,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Music Machine,
Henry Cow,
The Gories,
The United States of America,
The Stooges,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Neil Young,
The Fall,
Byron Stingily,
Brass Construction,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.