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 Algeria and from Cairo.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 spring reverb 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 Busters to the techno 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 Ronan. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
Eric Dolphy,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Five Americans,
Joe Finger,
The Standells,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Modern Lovers,
Marc Almond,
Gabor Szabo,
The Doors,
Aloha Tigers,
Suicide,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Talk Talk,
Traffic Nightmare,
Crispian St. Peters,
ABBA,
Skarface,
Qualms,
The Moody Blues,
Stockholm Monsters,
Leonard Cohen,
Absolute Body Control,
The Pretty Things,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Althea and Donna,
The Doobie Brothers,
David Bowie,
Black Sheep,
Archie Shepp,
Piero Umiliani,
The Golliwogs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Siglo XX,
the Human League,
Country Teasers,
The Move,
Cymande,
Joey Negro,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Alarm Clocks,
Anakelly,
T.S.O.L.,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rod Modell,
Albert Ayler,
Ossler,
Neu!,
Gang Starr,
Oblivians,
U.S. Maple,
The Monks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Aaron Thompson,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.