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 Argentina and from Glasgow.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 J.B.'s to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol 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 snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blossom Toes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Sixth Finger,
Lalann,
Public Image Ltd.,
Babytalk,
The Kinks,
Grey Daturas,
Bobby Womack,
Clear Light,
Kayak,
The Smiths,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jawbox,
Pantaleimon,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Deadbeat,
The Barracudas,
Spandau Ballet,
Cecil Taylor,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pierre Henry,
Eve St. Jones,
Jerry's Kids,
Maurizio,
Little Man,
The Happenings,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Peter & Gordon,
Sex Pistols,
Porter Ricks,
Television Personalities,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Groovy Waters,
Wolf Eyes,
Hoover,
Eric Dolphy,
La Düsseldorf,
Bill Near,
The Slackers,
Albert Ayler,
Jesper Dahlback,
Michelle Simonal,
The Remains,
World's Most,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The J.B.'s,
Cal Tjader,
Mandrill,
R.M.O.,
Intrusion,
Lou Reed,
Tres Demented,
Lakeside,
The Young Rascals,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sugar Minott,
Minny Pops,
Davy DMX,
Trumans Water,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.