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 Macedonia and from Lagos.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 guitar 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 Pylon to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
Rekid,
Reuben Wilson,
Bootsy Collins,
Unwound,
Arab on Radar,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Dead C,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Liliput,
Procol Harum,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
A Certain Ratio,
Matthew Bourne,
The Remains,
La Düsseldorf,
Spandau Ballet,
Andrew Hill,
Grauzone,
Steve Hackett,
Make Up,
Yazoo,
Crash Course in Science,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gang Green,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Monochrome Set,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Second Layer,
Kerri Chandler,
Niagra,
Technova,
The Dirtbombs,
Donny Hathaway,
Stockholm Monsters,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Franke,
LL Cool J,
Marine Girls,
The Busters,
Panda Bear,
The United States of America,
Cluster,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Marshall Jefferson,
Piero Umiliani,
F. McDonald,
Cecil Taylor,
Easy Going,
Wasted Youth,
Echospace,
Deepchord,
Television,
Porter Ricks,
DJ Sneak,
Kevin Saunderson,
Eve St. Jones,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lower 48,
Maleditus Sound,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.