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 South Sudan and from Columbus.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Salvador.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Rites of Spring to the rock 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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Delon & Dalcan,
Procol Harum,
Spandau Ballet,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Dirtbombs,
The Associates,
The Beau Brummels,
Derrick Morgan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Altered Images,
Schoolly D,
The Last Poets,
T.S.O.L.,
MDC,
The Move,
Trumans Water,
Jeff Mills,
Sonic Youth,
Scott Walker,
Lungfish,
Barclay James Harvest,
10cc,
Zapp,
The Barracudas,
D'Angelo,
Sandy B,
Blossom Toes,
Camberwell Now,
Crispian St. Peters,
Eurythmics,
Fatback Band,
Quantec,
Ralphi Rosario,
Glambeats Corp.,
Avey Tare,
Black Pus,
Jacob Miller,
The Blackbyrds,
Brick,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Swell Maps,
Soft Cell,
Deadbeat,
Todd Terry,
Amazonics,
The Star Department,
Tears for Fears,
Chrome,
Ice-T,
Adolescents,
Iggy Pop,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Echospace,
Funkadelic,
Mary Jane Girls,
Skriet,
Zero Boys,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.