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 Uruguay and from Woodstock.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Woodstock.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Nation of Ulysses to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
Slave,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Joensuu 1685,
The Dave Clark Five,
Con Funk Shun,
Drexciya,
Bronski Beat,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Trojans,
Derrick May,
Stiv Bators,
Blossom Toes,
Zapp,
Half Japanese,
The Busters,
Man Parrish,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Divine Comedy,
Cal Tjader,
Sixth Finger,
the Human League,
Absolute Body Control,
Cecil Taylor,
AZ,
The Birthday Party,
Arcadia,
The Smiths,
Marc Almond,
World's Most,
Fela Kuti,
Rufus Thomas,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kerrie Biddell,
Max Romeo,
Steve Hackett,
Young Marble Giants,
Royal Trux,
The Moody Blues,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Avey Tare,
Donny Hathaway,
Public Image Ltd.,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Surgeon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Todd Terry,
Reuben Wilson,
Bob Dylan,
Shoche,
Janne Schatter,
Dave Gahan,
The Electric Prunes,
the Bar-Kays,
Lucky Dragons,
Jeff Lynne,
Idris Muhammad,
the Soft Cell,
Suburban Knight,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines.
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.