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 Tunisia and from Paris.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Eddi Front to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Age Steppers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Smog,
Hot Snakes,
Glenn Branca,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Thompson Twins,
Delon & Dalcan,
8 Eyed Spy,
T.S.O.L.,
Qualms,
Man Eating Sloth,
Yellowson,
X-Ray Spex,
Royal Trux,
Dark Day,
Gichy Dan,
Nick Fraelich,
Camberwell Now,
Sam Rivers,
Black Flag,
The Dead C,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Pop Group,
Eric Dolphy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
John Holt,
The Grass Roots,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Siglo XX,
Bobby Sherman,
Freddie Wadling,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Slick Rick,
The Remains,
Fugazi,
Don Cherry,
Urselle,
This Heat,
Gil Scott Heron,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Loose Ends,
Quando Quango,
Cecil Taylor,
Bob Dylan,
The Velvet Underground,
La Düsseldorf,
Lucky Dragons,
Stereo Dub,
Derrick May,
Lightning Bolt,
cv313,
Magma,
Von Mondo,
Reuben Wilson,
The Young Rascals,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Scientists,
Jacques Brel,
Mad Mike,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron.
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.