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 Ukraine and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mumbai.
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 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Christie 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
Ken Boothe,
Bobby Sherman,
Jeru the Damaja,
Arcadia,
The Monks,
Gong,
Sarah Menescal,
Althea and Donna,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
David Axelrod,
the Sonics,
The Birthday Party,
Dave Gahan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jerry's Kids,
Nik Kershaw,
Bobby Womack,
The Fire Engines,
Spoonie Gee,
Sun City Girls,
OOIOO,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kas Product,
Erasure,
John Coltrane,
AZ,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pylon,
A Certain Ratio,
John Cale,
Mr. Review,
The Grass Roots,
U.S. Maple,
Albert Ayler,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rod Modell,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mo-Dettes,
Harry Pussy,
Wally Richardson,
Parry Music,
the Germs,
Monolake,
Tropical Tobacco,
R.M.O.,
The Motions,
Angry Samoans,
The Velvet Underground,
Camouflage,
Excepter,
The Angels of Light,
The Misunderstood,
Mars,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gichy Dan,
The Buckinghams,
The Slits,
Eve St. Jones,
Danielle Patucci,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.