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 United States and from Toronto.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nils Olav,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Monks,
the Sonics,
The Buckinghams,
Andrew Hill,
Marine Girls,
The American Breed,
Grauzone,
Severed Heads,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Michelle Simonal,
Mad Mike,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Swell Maps,
Liliput,
Anthony Braxton,
The Blues Magoos,
Iggy Pop,
Althea and Donna,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
James White and The Blacks,
Dave Gahan,
Charles Mingus,
Alice Coltrane,
The Gories,
Electric Prunes,
Bang On A Can,
Nirvana,
Aloha Tigers,
Ituana,
Matthew Bourne,
Ponytail,
The Move,
Flash Fearless,
Can,
Tears for Fears,
The United States of America,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tropical Tobacco,
Oblivians,
Roy Ayers,
The Selecter,
the Swans,
The Last Poets,
The Shadows of Knight,
Roxette,
Jacob Miller,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Joey Negro,
Negative Approach,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jeff Lynne,
Barrington Levy,
The Slits,
A Certain Ratio,
Sixth Finger,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes.
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.