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 Micronesia and from London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Delhi.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the electroclash 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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Nirvana,
Ken Boothe,
Youth Brigade,
Minutemen,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
FM Einheit,
Rotary Connection,
Jandek,
Khruangbin,
Tubeway Army,
The Martian,
Marcia Griffiths,
Marshall Jefferson,
Country Teasers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Eurythmics,
ABC,
Quantec,
U.S. Maple,
Man Eating Sloth,
Los Fastidios,
Thompson Twins,
A Flock of Seagulls,
DNA,
Radio Birdman,
Joensuu 1685,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
New Order,
Blake Baxter,
Ash Ra Tempel,
In Retrospect,
Crispy Ambulance,
K-Klass,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Johnny Clarke,
Radiopuhelimet,
Procol Harum,
UT,
Siglo XX,
Matthew Bourne,
Barry Ungar,
Public Enemy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Crispian St. Peters,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Archie Shepp,
Zero Boys,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Monks,
New Age Steppers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Nas,
Sonny Sharrock,
L. Decosne,
Andrew Hill,
Robert Wyatt,
Moby Grape,
Second Layer,
Minnie Riperton,
Idris Muhammad,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.