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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Traffic Nightmare to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick Morgan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Dead C,
The Litter,
Arab on Radar,
Bush Tetras,
The Birthday Party,
Brothers Johnson,
Television Personalities,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Moss Icon,
Liliput,
Deadbeat,
Nick Fraelich,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bill Near,
Al Stewart,
K-Klass,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Graham Central Station,
Jeff Lynne,
Hot Snakes,
Banda Bassotti,
The Dave Clark Five,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Patti Smith,
Erasure,
Kerri Chandler,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Simply Red,
Nation of Ulysses,
Guru Guru,
Wire,
This Heat,
Piero Umiliani,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Techniques,
Neil Young,
Barry Ungar,
Inner City,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Thee Headcoats,
Siglo XX,
Black Pus,
Avey Tare,
Vladislav Delay,
The Happenings,
Radio Birdman,
Organ,
Aloha Tigers,
Chrome,
Gregory Isaacs,
ABC,
Agent Orange,
Althea and Donna,
Surgeon,
Smog,
Qualms,
Bobby Byrd,
The Divine Comedy,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.