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 Fiji and from Portland.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Hoover to the crunk 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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-Ray Spex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Blackbyrds,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Amon Düül,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Busters,
Joey Negro,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Metal Thangz,
Gang Starr,
Lebanon Hanover,
FM Einheit,
The Slackers,
The Dirtbombs,
Anakelly,
Ice-T,
Half Japanese,
The Evens,
Pole,
The Divine Comedy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eve St. Jones,
Warsaw,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Names,
Andrew Hill,
Zero Boys,
Adolescents,
Magma,
Brick,
The Smiths,
Delta 5,
This Heat,
Kool Moe Dee,
Brass Construction,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pulsallama,
The Tremeloes,
Derrick May,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Maurizio,
The Motions,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fat Boys,
Robert Görl,
Zapp,
Dawn Penn,
Funky Four + One,
Minny Pops,
The Fortunes,
Technova,
Minor Threat,
Pagans,
The Moody Blues,
Swans,
The Knickerbockers,
Laurel Aitken,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.