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 Lesotho and from Jakarta.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Cosmic Jokers to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Gerry Rafferty,
Black Moon,
Black Flag,
Blossom Toes,
Half Japanese,
Model 500,
Sarah Menescal,
Royal Trux,
Crispian St. Peters,
Hasil Adkins,
48th St. Collective,
Joe Smooth,
The United States of America,
Thompson Twins,
Mandrill,
The Gun Club,
Grandmaster Flash,
Roger Hodgson,
Cal Tjader,
Drexciya,
Parry Music,
Visage,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Blake Baxter,
Soul Sonic Force,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Smog,
Pussy Galore,
Susan Cadogan,
Man Parrish,
Magma,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sandy B,
FM Einheit,
Organ,
Janne Schatter,
Jeru the Damaja,
The American Breed,
The Divine Comedy,
David Axelrod,
Robert Hood,
The Stooges,
Ice-T,
Wasted Youth,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Peter and Kerry,
The J.B.'s,
Sun Ra,
The Remains,
Can,
Rufus Thomas,
Anakelly,
The Walker Brothers,
Bob Dylan,
Minor Threat,
Japan,
Pere Ubu,
Y Pants,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.