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 Guatemala and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 Halifax and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the sitar 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 Archie Shepp to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum 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?
Mantronix,
Amon Düül II,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Durutti Column,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Pretty Things,
Sixth Finger,
Gong,
48th St. Collective,
Wasted Youth,
Wolf Eyes,
Derrick May,
Bobby Womack,
Half Japanese,
The Slackers,
The Beau Brummels,
Stetsasonic,
Grauzone,
Rakim,
In Retrospect,
Magma,
Rod Modell,
Freddie Wadling,
Mission of Burma,
Davy DMX,
The Electric Prunes,
Nico,
Yellowson,
Pole,
Matthew Halsall,
The Star Department,
The Offenders,
The Golliwogs,
Anakelly,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lucky Dragons,
Cybotron,
Saccharine Trust,
Lower 48,
Angry Samoans,
Country Teasers,
Desert Stars,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Unwound,
Simply Red,
Little Man,
Jimmy McGriff,
MC5,
Glenn Branca,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Black Bananas,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Tubeway Army,
Second Layer,
Albert Ayler,
Tim Buckley,
Arthur Verocai,
Dead Boys,
Reagan Youth,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.