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 Ethiopia 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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Man Eating Sloth to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Lungfish,
Lee Hazlewood,
Smog,
Shoche,
a-ha,
Kerri Chandler,
Barrington Levy,
Charles Mingus,
Marc Almond,
Rotary Connection,
The Velvet Underground,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Alarm Clocks,
U.S. Maple,
Can,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Simply Red,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Toni Rubio,
the Soft Cell,
Los Fastidios,
The Human League,
Piero Umiliani,
Joey Negro,
Bobby Womack,
Clear Light,
Morten Harket,
The Martian,
The Electric Prunes,
the Swans,
Brothers Johnson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Intrusion,
Maurizio,
Black Pus,
Skriet,
Wire,
Dark Day,
Soul Sonic Force,
Television Personalities,
Slave,
New York Dolls,
Soulsonic Force,
Average White Band,
The Blackbyrds,
Soft Machine,
Make Up,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ultra Naté,
Stiv Bators,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Barracudas,
Faraquet,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Spoonie Gee,
Nico,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Moleskins,
John Holt,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kaleidoscope,
Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario.
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.