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 Uzbekistan and from Jakarta.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Junior Murvin to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Freddie Wadling,
ABC,
Saccharine Trust,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Minny Pops,
Rakim,
The Vogues,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Smog,
Dennis Brown,
Ituana,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
48th St. Collective,
Dave Gahan,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Franke,
Aloha Tigers,
Ossler,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Smoke,
Man Parrish,
Sällskapet,
The Young Rascals,
Nils Olav,
Wolf Eyes,
Harmonia,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lalann,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
John Foxx,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Fluxion,
Visage,
Sandy B,
Ralphi Rosario,
Radiohead,
Talk Talk,
Chris & Cosey,
The Walker Brothers,
Supertramp,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jawbox,
The Stooges,
the Fania All-Stars,
EPMD,
In Retrospect,
Bill Wells,
Glenn Branca,
This Heat,
Josef K,
John Holt,
June Days,
The Victims,
Joe Finger,
Sparks,
Aaron Thompson,
T.S.O.L.,
Pierre Henry,
Easy Going,
The Evens,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.