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 Slovenia and from Calgary.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Columbus.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Althea and Donna to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Donald Byrd,
Fad Gadget,
One Last Wish,
Dorothy Ashby,
Desert Stars,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Liliput,
Ice-T,
Second Layer,
Derrick May,
Soft Cell,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Archie Shepp,
China Crisis,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Blues Magoos,
Susan Cadogan,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fat Boys,
Nas,
Mr. Review,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Severed Heads,
Pylon,
Kayak,
Eric B and Rakim,
Spoonie Gee,
Gang of Four,
Animal Collective,
Crispian St. Peters,
Arthur Verocai,
10cc,
Marshall Jefferson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Birthday Party,
Robert Wyatt,
Magazine,
R.M.O.,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Al Stewart,
Rakim,
June of 44,
John Cale,
Minor Threat,
Harry Pussy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Anakelly,
Ronan,
U.S. Maple,
Jacob Miller,
Avey Tare,
Adolescents,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bobby Byrd,
Scan 7,
The Misunderstood,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.