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 Peru and from Copenhagen.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 10cc to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
the Bar-Kays,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Marc Almond,
Man Parrish,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Move,
The Blackbyrds,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hashim,
Man Eating Sloth,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Crooked Eye,
Roxette,
Circle Jerks,
The American Breed,
The Cramps,
New York Dolls,
Scan 7,
Hardrive,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Roger Hodgson,
Smog,
The Fugs,
Connie Case,
Von Mondo,
Kerrie Biddell,
World's Most,
Essential Logic,
The Gun Club,
Ronan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Barrington Levy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Model 500,
Swell Maps,
The Tremeloes,
Niagra,
Excepter,
Half Japanese,
Aswad,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Dave Clark Five,
Theoretical Girls,
Steve Hackett,
Radio Birdman,
Sarah Menescal,
The Velvet Underground,
Negative Approach,
John Cale,
Janne Schatter,
Alice Coltrane,
Fad Gadget,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Cowsills,
B.T. Express,
Lebanon Hanover,
Todd Rundgren,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.