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 Venezuela and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Rufus Thomas to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Names. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Mantronix,
Crispy Ambulance,
Motorama,
Ludus,
Q65,
The Martian,
Echospace,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Byron Stingily,
The Gories,
the Swans,
Funkadelic,
John Lydon,
Liliput,
the Bar-Kays,
Jawbox,
Unrelated Segments,
The Zeros,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Robert Hood,
Yaz,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Alton Ellis,
Faust,
Hot Snakes,
The Index,
Hasil Adkins,
Guru Guru,
Aaron Thompson,
Tubeway Army,
Bang On A Can,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ponytail,
Mo-Dettes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
John Coltrane,
Robert Görl,
Brick,
The Move,
Sun Ra,
Country Teasers,
Man Parrish,
Main Source,
Gabor Szabo,
Desert Stars,
The Smiths,
Ornette Coleman,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Avey Tare,
Amazonics,
Flipper,
The Skatalites,
Flash Fearless,
Crispian St. Peters,
Arthur Verocai,
Suburban Knight,
Fluxion,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.