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 Ivory Coast and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Electric Prunes to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
Interpol,
E-Dancer,
Robert Wyatt,
R.M.O.,
Scott Walker,
The Golliwogs,
Reagan Youth,
Matthew Bourne,
The Buckinghams,
Barry Ungar,
Kayak,
Heaven 17,
The Saints,
June Days,
Gang Gang Dance,
Mantronix,
Siglo XX,
Blake Baxter,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Black Bananas,
Gichy Dan,
Shuggie Otis,
Goldenarms,
The Zeros,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
L. Decosne,
Minor Threat,
Roxy Music,
China Crisis,
Bush Tetras,
Cecil Taylor,
the Human League,
the Normal,
a-ha,
World's Most,
The Cure,
Henry Cow,
Unwound,
The Blues Magoos,
The Fall,
Roxette,
Charles Mingus,
Tom Boy,
Graham Central Station,
Erasure,
Dark Day,
KRS-One,
The Knickerbockers,
Andrew Hill,
Scientists,
Skarface,
Matthew Halsall,
The Invisible,
Rekid,
Joyce Sims,
Electric Prunes,
Kenny Larkin,
Gong,
Flamin' Groovies,
ABC,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.