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 Seychelles and from Winnipeg.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gang Gang Dance to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiohead record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Can,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Seeds,
Arab on Radar,
James White and The Blacks,
48th St. Collective,
Wolf Eyes,
Mission of Burma,
Glenn Branca,
Morten Harket,
One Last Wish,
Deakin,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pet Shop Boys,
Echospace,
Nik Kershaw,
The Dave Clark Five,
Maurizio,
Y Pants,
The Associates,
Josef K,
Barbara Tucker,
Lyres,
In Retrospect,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Second Layer,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Brothers Johnson,
R.M.O.,
Arthur Verocai,
Thee Headcoats,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Gladiators,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pantytec,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bobby Sherman,
Bootsy Collins,
Blossom Toes,
Minor Threat,
Slave,
Joyce Sims,
This Heat,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Red Krayola,
Minutemen,
Oblivians,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Smiths,
Guru Guru,
Black Flag,
Zapp,
Bobby Byrd,
Sonic Youth,
Jawbox,
Gerry Rafferty,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.