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 Kyrgyzstan and from Houston.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Bill Wells to the dance 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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Max Romeo,
Dawn Penn,
Reagan Youth,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jacques Brel,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Fear,
Marvin Gaye,
Tim Buckley,
Tom Boy,
Joyce Sims,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Neu!,
Cymande,
Big Daddy Kane,
Symarip,
Rakim,
Pere Ubu,
Livin' Joy,
The Pretty Things,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lou Christie,
Adolescents,
the Germs,
Newcleus,
DNA,
Bad Manners,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wire,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Seeds,
Juan Atkins,
Minor Threat,
Donny Hathaway,
Ituana,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rapeman,
The Moody Blues,
Josef K,
Erykah Badu,
Thee Headcoats,
48th St. Collective,
The Golliwogs,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Avey Tare,
Fatback Band,
The Smoke,
Yazoo,
Kerri Chandler,
The Slits,
Mad Mike,
Scrapy,
Aaron Thompson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Susan Cadogan,
The Smiths,
Funkadelic,
The Red Krayola,
Angry Samoans,
Judy Mowatt,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.