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 Congo and from Mexico City.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Buzzcocks to the funk 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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Ossler,
Alton Ellis,
Matthew Bourne,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sandy B,
Faust,
Skaos,
Kool Moe Dee,
Roxy Music,
Symarip,
Trumans Water,
The Dirtbombs,
John Coltrane,
Surgeon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
U.S. Maple,
Fugazi,
Scion,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Delta 5,
Roxette,
Skriet,
Minor Threat,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Blues Magoos,
Scan 7,
The Fugs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Public Image Ltd.,
Mantronix,
Guru Guru,
Sun City Girls,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Human League,
The Fire Engines,
Slave,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Piero Umiliani,
Rakim,
Andrew Hill,
Public Enemy,
Grey Daturas,
Buzzcocks,
Jacques Brel,
Minutemen,
Crash Course in Science,
Nation of Ulysses,
Television Personalities,
Eurythmics,
Procol Harum,
The Names,
T. Rex,
Khruangbin,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Rosa Yemen,
Robert Görl,
The Moleskins,
Rhythm & Sound,
Organ,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.