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 Iran 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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 organ 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 The Buckinghams to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Leonard Cohen. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dark Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
John Cale,
The Residents,
Brand Nubian,
The Sound,
Soft Machine,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Soft Cell,
Mantronix,
Suicide,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Minor Threat,
Roxy Music,
Cluster,
Khruangbin,
A Certain Ratio,
Livin' Joy,
Marvin Gaye,
The Blues Magoos,
Hashim,
Second Layer,
Chris & Cosey,
Joey Negro,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kerri Chandler,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Quadrant,
The Pop Group,
Vainqueur,
X-102,
Public Image Ltd.,
Jacques Brel,
Joe Finger,
The Doobie Brothers,
La Düsseldorf,
Cheater Slicks,
The Fall,
Ponytail,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Swans,
The Smoke,
Lou Christie,
Man Eating Sloth,
Faust,
the Bar-Kays,
Chris Corsano,
The Human League,
John Lydon,
The Tremeloes,
Camberwell Now,
Slave,
Organ,
The Five Americans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
These Immortal Souls,
Rakim,
JFA,
T. Rex,
OOIOO,
Mission of Burma,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.