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 Hungary and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Max Romeo to the grunge 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 The Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Danielle Patucci,
Outsiders,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
New Age Steppers,
Sixth Finger,
Kas Product,
The Tremeloes,
Nico,
Davy DMX,
Circle Jerks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Matthew Bourne,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Nas,
Kevin Saunderson,
New York Dolls,
The Leaves,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Scott Walker,
Desert Stars,
Mo-Dettes,
Arcadia,
Animal Collective,
Symarip,
Severed Heads,
cv313,
Mary Jane Girls,
Television Personalities,
Matthew Halsall,
The Grass Roots,
Popol Vuh,
Peter & Gordon,
Laurel Aitken,
Lungfish,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Selecter,
Wasted Youth,
Second Layer,
Half Japanese,
Delta 5,
Don Cherry,
Neil Young,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rapeman,
The Walker Brothers,
Eve St. Jones,
Erasure,
Dawn Penn,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Fugs,
Robert Görl,
Man Parrish,
The Red Krayola,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Smog,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Au Pairs,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.