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 Tanzania and from Tehran.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Deakin to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Fugazi,
Maurizio,
Crash Course in Science,
Colin Newman,
The Evens,
The Skatalites,
Lou Reed,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lindisfarne,
Neil Young,
Massinfluence,
Josef K,
Eden Ahbez,
Talk Talk,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mo-Dettes,
Visage,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Zapp,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Qualms,
The Victims,
The Zeros,
Underground Resistance,
The Durutti Column,
Stockholm Monsters,
UT,
Khruangbin,
Man Parrish,
The Alarm Clocks,
Idris Muhammad,
Von Mondo,
Bob Dylan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sam Rivers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Procol Harum,
The Cramps,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Deadbeat,
the Swans,
Popol Vuh,
Public Image Ltd.,
X-Ray Spex,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Fluxion,
The Mojo Men,
Suicide,
Make Up,
Mary Jane Girls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Al Stewart,
Adolescents,
Dennis Brown,
Donald Byrd,
The Birthday Party,
Second Layer,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.