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 Tonga and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Visage to the disco 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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
The Neon Judgement,
The Blues Magoos,
The Raincoats,
Magazine,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gerry Rafferty,
Interpol,
Peter & Gordon,
The United States of America,
Blossom Toes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
EPMD,
Juan Atkins,
Donald Byrd,
Brothers Johnson,
Qualms,
Reuben Wilson,
Eve St. Jones,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Brand Nubian,
Scott Walker,
Technova,
Yellowson,
Bob Dylan,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
June Days,
Nico,
Negative Approach,
Michelle Simonal,
The Stooges,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Youth Brigade,
Little Man,
Terrestrial Tones,
Marshall Jefferson,
Nirvana,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rufus Thomas,
Faust,
Zapp,
The Flesh Eaters,
Hot Snakes,
Minutemen,
the Bar-Kays,
Connie Case,
The Moleskins,
Ken Boothe,
Flash Fearless,
Wasted Youth,
Reagan Youth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Vogues,
Flipper,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Wake,
Unwound,
A Certain Ratio,
The Tremeloes,
Idris Muhammad,
MDC,
The Mojo Men,
Yazoo,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.