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 Chad and from Portland.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fugazi to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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?
Ossler,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Grey Daturas,
Amon Düül,
Infiniti,
The Alarm Clocks,
Royal Trux,
EPMD,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sam Rivers,
Colin Newman,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Red Krayola,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Fugs,
Warsaw,
Alphaville,
Oneida,
Skriet,
Deadbeat,
the Swans,
Buzzcocks,
cv313,
Nick Fraelich,
Michelle Simonal,
The Offenders,
The Fortunes,
LL Cool J,
The Happenings,
The Selecter,
Sixth Finger,
Barrington Levy,
48th St. Collective,
Roy Ayers,
Derrick Morgan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pierre Henry,
Metal Thangz,
Pantytec,
Index,
Rites of Spring,
The Evens,
Electric Prunes,
Kenny Larkin,
Fugazi,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Mark Hollis,
The Wake,
In Retrospect,
Pantaleimon,
Scott Walker,
The American Breed,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pere Ubu,
Suburban Knight,
Monolake,
Easy Going,
Yazoo,
Loose Ends,
Donny Hathaway,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.