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 Bulgaria and from Taipei.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Aloha Tigers to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Yusef Lateef,
Buzzcocks,
Gang Green,
Blancmange,
The New Christs,
John Holt,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Skatalites,
Robert Hood,
Slick Rick,
Pulsallama,
The Detroit Cobras,
Terry Callier,
Cluster,
John Cale,
The Sound,
Man Eating Sloth,
Mark Hollis,
Yazoo,
Drive Like Jehu,
Technova,
Brass Construction,
The Martian,
Quadrant,
The Residents,
The Leaves,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ornette Coleman,
The Gun Club,
Nick Fraelich,
Mandrill,
Lindisfarne,
John Lydon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Swell Maps,
Harpers Bizarre,
The J.B.'s,
The Gories,
Massinfluence,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Grass Roots,
Patti Smith,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Trumans Water,
Bob Dylan,
The Stooges,
Funkadelic,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kool Moe Dee,
PIL,
Metal Thangz,
Tomorrow,
The Seeds,
John Foxx,
Chrome,
Arcadia,
Ronan,
Nico,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Main Source,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Interpol,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.