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 Azerbaijan and from Toronto.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Residents to the electroclash 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 Remains. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Skaos,
Marine Girls,
Isaac Hayes,
Tim Buckley,
The Cowsills,
Bauhaus,
The Neon Judgement,
Minutemen,
Brothers Johnson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Crispian St. Peters,
U.S. Maple,
Symarip,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bob Dylan,
The Black Dice,
Neu!,
Newcleus,
Robert Görl,
Accadde A,
Tropical Tobacco,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
These Immortal Souls,
Severed Heads,
Wasted Youth,
The Knickerbockers,
Brand Nubian,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sound Behaviour,
Can,
Patti Smith,
The Monks,
Gang of Four,
AZ,
Y Pants,
Maurizio,
Brick,
Todd Terry,
MC5,
Japan,
Althea and Donna,
Interpol,
Gerry Rafferty,
Aaron Thompson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Blossom Toes,
The Litter,
Dark Day,
Banda Bassotti,
Zapp,
The Trojans,
The Dead C,
Pussy Galore,
The Gun Club,
X-102,
Jeff Mills,
Unwound,
Ice-T,
World's Most,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.