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 Paraguay and from Edmonton.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Buckinghams to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Eve St. Jones,
Slick Rick,
Tears for Fears,
The Blues Magoos,
The Searchers,
Boogie Down Productions,
The New Christs,
Easy Going,
The Residents,
Zapp,
Gong,
Derrick Morgan,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ultravox,
Gang Green,
Crooked Eye,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Al Stewart,
Ludus,
Scan 7,
the Bar-Kays,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rites of Spring,
Black Pus,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Circle Jerks,
Lou Christie,
Mad Mike,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sister Nancy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
La Düsseldorf,
Joe Finger,
Blossom Toes,
Bob Dylan,
Fatback Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Standells,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Cure,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Andrew Hill,
Nils Olav,
The Black Dice,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Magazine,
Joy Division,
Saccharine Trust,
The Five Americans,
Jandek,
Maurizio,
Mary Jane Girls,
U.S. Maple,
Mo-Dettes,
Negative Approach,
Skarface,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
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.