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 Serbia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manchester.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Quantec to the disco 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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
The Velvet Underground,
Blancmange,
The New Christs,
Minutemen,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Flipper,
Ohio Players,
Black Flag,
X-101,
Livin' Joy,
The J.B.'s,
Arthur Verocai,
Moebius,
Surgeon,
Banda Bassotti,
Marcia Griffiths,
L. Decosne,
Gichy Dan,
The Dead C,
PIL,
DJ Sneak,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Detroit Cobras,
Black Pus,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jeff Lynne,
Zapp,
Oblivians,
Nirvana,
Aaron Thompson,
Tubeway Army,
Mad Mike,
Aswad,
Parry Music,
Rod Modell,
Peter and Kerry,
Youth Brigade,
Shuggie Otis,
Can,
The Residents,
Q65,
Fela Kuti,
The Sound,
Warsaw,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Man Parrish,
Ornette Coleman,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fugs,
Peter & Gordon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Fat Boys,
Sexual Harrassment,
Glenn Branca,
Soft Cell,
The Moleskins,
Donald Byrd,
Fad Gadget,
Tim Buckley,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.