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 Suriname and from Tokyo.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Bang On A Can to the disco 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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gregory Isaacs,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sight & Sound,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Smoke,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Jeff Lynne,
The Stooges,
Rites of Spring,
Brick,
The Golliwogs,
The Fortunes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mo-Dettes,
ABC,
Blake Baxter,
Stockholm Monsters,
Funkadelic,
Minutemen,
The Evens,
AZ,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Scientists,
Tres Demented,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bizarre Inc.,
Arthur Verocai,
The Shadows of Knight,
Supertramp,
The Sound,
The Fall,
Los Fastidios,
Morten Harket,
Lower 48,
Black Moon,
The Residents,
Pulsallama,
The Move,
John Lydon,
DJ Style,
The Last Poets,
The Mummies,
Wally Richardson,
The Birthday Party,
The Young Rascals,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Von Mondo,
Magma,
a-ha,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gil Scott Heron,
Slick Rick,
Scott Walker,
John Holt,
Roger Hodgson,
Infiniti,
Jandek,
Subhumans,
The Fugs,
Reagan Youth,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.