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 Poland and from Philadelphia.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the theremin 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 Nirvana to the grunge 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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sunsets and Hearts,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Slits,
Barrington Levy,
Swans,
The Mojo Men,
Sun City Girls,
Iggy Pop,
Angry Samoans,
Rod Modell,
Arcadia,
The Busters,
Public Enemy,
Pussy Galore,
Little Man,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Mandrill,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Dawn Penn,
Flamin' Groovies,
Dorothy Ashby,
Spoonie Gee,
These Immortal Souls,
The Blackbyrds,
Magma,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Grass Roots,
Albert Ayler,
Alphaville,
Livin' Joy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Zapp,
Skriet,
Sällskapet,
Gregory Isaacs,
Anthony Braxton,
Yellowson,
Harmonia,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
June Days,
Wasted Youth,
Altered Images,
Das Ding,
The Residents,
Marcia Griffiths,
Scratch Acid,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gichy Dan,
Schoolly D,
Essential Logic,
Ronan,
Lakeside,
Crispian St. Peters,
Q and Not U,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.