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 Croatia and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Brick to the jazz 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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ornette Coleman,
Johnny Clarke,
Aswad,
Accadde A,
H. Thieme,
Mantronix,
DJ Sneak,
Eden Ahbez,
Blancmange,
The Black Dice,
The Star Department,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Flipper,
Stereo Dub,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Donald Byrd,
Marc Almond,
Vladislav Delay,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Skatalites,
The Slits,
E-Dancer,
Excepter,
Leonard Cohen,
the Normal,
Visage,
Rekid,
The Birthday Party,
the Bar-Kays,
Cybotron,
Alphaville,
Alice Coltrane,
Silicon Teens,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rod Modell,
Guru Guru,
Todd Terry,
X-Ray Spex,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sixth Finger,
Bobby Byrd,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Stiv Bators,
Technova,
Boz Scaggs,
Faust,
Television,
The Invisible,
Lee Hazlewood,
Maleditus Sound,
The Golliwogs,
Joensuu 1685,
Brothers Johnson,
Ultimate Spinach,
Derrick May,
New York Dolls,
Howard Jones,
The Dave Clark Five,
Procol Harum,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.