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 Iraq and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Calgary.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the funk 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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kenny Larkin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rufus Thomas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Pantaleimon,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Last Poets,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ohio Players,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
OOIOO,
Yellowson,
Sällskapet,
The Star Department,
Minny Pops,
H. Thieme,
Eve St. Jones,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rakim,
Funky Four + One,
Crime,
Duran Duran,
Iggy Pop,
Lebanon Hanover,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Moleskins,
Tropical Tobacco,
Harmonia,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pussy Galore,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dave Gahan,
The Happenings,
Janne Schatter,
Hasil Adkins,
The Divine Comedy,
Darondo,
LL Cool J,
Jacques Brel,
Von Mondo,
New York Dolls,
Gichy Dan,
Ponytail,
Faraquet,
Althea and Donna,
June of 44,
Newcleus,
Wasted Youth,
Livin' Joy,
The Seeds,
Quando Quango,
Sonic Youth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Andrew Hill,
Cecil Taylor,
Adolescents,
Khruangbin,
Section 25,
48th St. Collective,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Joensuu 1685,
Panda Bear,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.