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 Netherlands and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Columbus.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the 808 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 Joy Division to the jazz 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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
Harry Pussy,
Eddi Front,
The Detroit Cobras,
JFA,
Robert Görl,
Camouflage,
Animal Collective,
Curtis Mayfield,
Groovy Waters,
Khruangbin,
Scott Walker,
Michelle Simonal,
Deepchord,
Lakeside,
Sonny Sharrock,
Flipper,
Popol Vuh,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Donny Hathaway,
Zero Boys,
Sam Rivers,
John Holt,
Ludus,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Blues Magoos,
The Beau Brummels,
UT,
Intrusion,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Desert Stars,
Interpol,
The Misunderstood,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Supertramp,
Warsaw,
Sällskapet,
Severed Heads,
The Names,
Joe Finger,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Five Americans,
Agitation Free,
Sight & Sound,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Velvet Underground,
Steve Hackett,
Bauhaus,
Accadde A,
Tears for Fears,
a-ha,
Kaleidoscope,
Von Mondo,
Gang Green,
The Toasters,
Kenny Larkin,
Vainqueur,
The Dirtbombs,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.