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 Andorra and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 clarinet 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 H. Thieme to the punk 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 The Cure. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
Jawbox,
Thee Headcoats,
Max Romeo,
CMW,
Sarah Menescal,
Jimmy McGriff,
Can,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Brick,
Deepchord,
Colin Newman,
John Foxx,
Gang of Four,
James White and The Blacks,
Erykah Badu,
The Skatalites,
Wings,
Joensuu 1685,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Deakin,
Panda Bear,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Minny Pops,
The Shadows of Knight,
Brand Nubian,
JFA,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Saccharine Trust,
Byron Stingily,
Loose Ends,
Surgeon,
Roger Hodgson,
E-Dancer,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Nico,
Alice Coltrane,
Matthew Bourne,
The Knickerbockers,
Reuben Wilson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Amon Düül,
Mo-Dettes,
The Invisible,
The Pop Group,
Marcia Griffiths,
Camouflage,
Main Source,
The Residents,
Lou Reed,
Little Man,
ABBA,
The Toasters,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sugar Minott,
Icehouse,
Fear,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bauhaus,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.