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 Somalia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Wally Richardson to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jimmy McGriff record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fat Boys,
Mark Hollis,
Sonic Youth,
The Slackers,
Brick,
Roxette,
Talk Talk,
Swell Maps,
Nils Olav,
Dark Day,
Ronnie Foster,
The Mojo Men,
Scratch Acid,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lucky Dragons,
Yusef Lateef,
The Flesh Eaters,
CMW,
Absolute Body Control,
Can,
Oblivians,
the Normal,
Little Man,
X-102,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lindisfarne,
Magma,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Pop Group,
Country Teasers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ponytail,
DJ Sneak,
Quando Quango,
Yazoo,
Terry Callier,
Blossom Toes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Stiv Bators,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
OOIOO,
Minnie Riperton,
The Walker Brothers,
Byron Stingily,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Simply Red,
Royal Trux,
Motorama,
Jeff Lynne,
Pylon,
Robert Hood,
Fatback Band,
Henry Cow,
Groovy Waters,
Massinfluence,
cv313,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mandrill,
Frankie Knuckles,
Black Flag,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.