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 Madagascar and from Accra.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Mexico City.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Germs to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantaleimon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
Oblivians,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bootsy Collins,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Crispy Ambulance,
X-102,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Godley & Creme,
Crooked Eye,
Livin' Joy,
Bang On A Can,
Matthew Bourne,
Theoretical Girls,
Faust,
Wings,
Barrington Levy,
Ohio Players,
The Moody Blues,
Sam Rivers,
Fatback Band,
Ornette Coleman,
Jandek,
Blake Baxter,
Hashim,
Aaron Thompson,
Nas,
The Beau Brummels,
Thee Headcoats,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Victims,
T. Rex,
Barclay James Harvest,
Radiopuhelimet,
Scan 7,
Lightning Bolt,
The Fire Engines,
Anakelly,
Bauhaus,
Roger Hodgson,
Joe Smooth,
China Crisis,
Chris & Cosey,
Darondo,
The Kinks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Japan,
Ossler,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
DJ Sneak,
Buzzcocks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Gladiators,
Skarface,
Fugazi,
Chrome,
Iggy Pop,
X-101,
The Tremeloes,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.