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 Venezuela and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 sitar 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 L. Decosne to the funk 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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boogie Down Productions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Dolphy,
Symarip,
Crash Course in Science,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tim Buckley,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wire,
Nirvana,
Tears for Fears,
the Slits,
Talk Talk,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Kinks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Deadbeat,
Bootsy Collins,
Fat Boys,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Audionom,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Cure,
David Bowie,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Fuzztones,
Drive Like Jehu,
Max Romeo,
James White and The Blacks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jeff Lynne,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bush Tetras,
the Bar-Kays,
10cc,
Colin Newman,
Fluxion,
The Five Americans,
The Seeds,
Agent Orange,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Barrington Levy,
The Residents,
Bill Wells,
Television Personalities,
F. McDonald,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lower 48,
The Cramps,
Rod Modell,
Silicon Teens,
Cheater Slicks,
Delta 5,
John Holt,
Roxy Music,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Shuggie Otis,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bronski Beat,
Motorama,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.