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 Houston.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar 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 Adolescents to the jazz 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 The Trojans. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harmonia 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Second Layer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Danielle Patucci,
Motorama,
Eric B and Rakim,
Symarip,
Cluster,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Beau Brummels,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bang On A Can,
Michelle Simonal,
Model 500,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tom Boy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Cymande,
Young Marble Giants,
Freddie Wadling,
Index,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ken Boothe,
Charles Mingus,
T. Rex,
Japan,
Howard Jones,
Suicide,
Marc Almond,
Moebius,
Blancmange,
Roger Hodgson,
Robert Hood,
The Cure,
UT,
Todd Terry,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sparks,
Mandrill,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ituana,
Boredoms,
Rakim,
The Sound,
Tres Demented,
Wasted Youth,
Black Moon,
Swans,
AZ,
Suburban Knight,
The Standells,
Duran Duran,
Outsiders,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.