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 San Marino and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 harpsichord 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 Icehouse to the dance 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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Görl record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
Ten City,
Black Flag,
Harpers Bizarre,
Magma,
Underground Resistance,
The Monks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Eric Copeland,
The Gladiators,
The Seeds,
The Neon Judgement,
Spoonie Gee,
Connie Case,
Make Up,
David Axelrod,
Sam Rivers,
The Fortunes,
Fugazi,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Juan Atkins,
Gang Gang Dance,
Q and Not U,
Tom Boy,
The Last Poets,
Sex Pistols,
Chris & Cosey,
Can,
Gregory Isaacs,
E-Dancer,
The Litter,
Swell Maps,
The Techniques,
The Kinks,
Quando Quango,
Jeff Lynne,
the Normal,
Moby Grape,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bluetip,
the Germs,
Ronnie Foster,
Lakeside,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Buckinghams,
Intrusion,
8 Eyed Spy,
Flash Fearless,
Boredoms,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
John Lydon,
Stetsasonic,
Warsaw,
Blake Baxter,
Cheater Slicks,
Ludus,
Little Man,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Flamin' Groovies,
A Certain Ratio,
Bang On A Can,
Freddie Wadling,
Derrick Morgan,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.