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 Gambia and from Accra.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Peter and Kerry to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
The Red Krayola,
Glenn Branca,
The Angels of Light,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
June of 44,
Clear Light,
Amon Düül II,
June Days,
Robert Wyatt,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Count Five,
Fatback Band,
New York Dolls,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Heaven 17,
Scratch Acid,
Model 500,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Groovy Waters,
Radiopuhelimet,
Marvin Gaye,
Pulsallama,
Marshall Jefferson,
Monolake,
Jesper Dahlback,
Isaac Hayes,
Magma,
The Techniques,
Scientists,
K-Klass,
Can,
Prince Buster,
Popol Vuh,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Shadows of Knight,
Flamin' Groovies,
Make Up,
PIL,
Eric Copeland,
the Association,
The Mummies,
Q65,
The Velvet Underground,
The Real Kids,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
X-101,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jawbox,
Dawn Penn,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ludus,
Crooked Eye,
cv313,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Toasters,
Mission of Burma,
Lou Reed,
Glambeats Corp.,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.