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 San Marino and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 The Dead C to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cure. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
Camouflage,
Schoolly D,
Black Sheep,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Newcleus,
Rites of Spring,
Eric B and Rakim,
Joe Smooth,
The Moody Blues,
Sparks,
Robert Hood,
The United States of America,
Index,
The Birthday Party,
Eurythmics,
The Golliwogs,
Sight & Sound,
Eve St. Jones,
Wolf Eyes,
Shoche,
Roger Hodgson,
Aaron Thompson,
Crime,
Howard Jones,
Jawbox,
Warsaw,
Traffic Nightmare,
John Cale,
Babytalk,
Tom Boy,
This Heat,
China Crisis,
The Kinks,
the Sonics,
Electric Prunes,
Ponytail,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Johnny Clarke,
Iggy Pop,
Prince Buster,
Lalo Schifrin,
Black Flag,
Amon Düül II,
Max Romeo,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Residents,
Slick Rick,
Livin' Joy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gil Scott Heron,
David Bowie,
The Blues Magoos,
Henry Cow,
The Gap Band,
Drive Like Jehu,
Trumans Water,
June of 44,
The Flesh Eaters,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.