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 Cameroon and from Hong Kong.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the oboe 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 Ten City to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bob Dylan,
Simply Red,
Chris Corsano,
Desert Stars,
The Shadows of Knight,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
LL Cool J,
T.S.O.L.,
The Golliwogs,
Sex Pistols,
Gregory Isaacs,
James White and The Blacks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Gun Club,
Juan Atkins,
Bad Manners,
Arthur Verocai,
Kaleidoscope,
June Days,
John Lydon,
Crash Course in Science,
DJ Sneak,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Misunderstood,
Kevin Saunderson,
Wings,
Bootsy Collins,
The Durutti Column,
Robert Hood,
The Gap Band,
Siglo XX,
Blancmange,
Sam Rivers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Music Machine,
Easy Going,
Los Fastidios,
Jandek,
Unwound,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Average White Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
Tubeway Army,
The Busters,
Sonny Sharrock,
Delta 5,
Absolute Body Control,
Peter & Gordon,
Ituana,
Marmalade,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Cecil Taylor,
Dave Gahan,
Magazine,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.