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 Spokane.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Interpol to the crunk 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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Loose Ends,
Marine Girls,
Black Moon,
Neil Young,
The Wake,
Bluetip,
Symarip,
Zero Boys,
Grauzone,
The Grass Roots,
The Gun Club,
Liliput,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Minor Threat,
Erykah Badu,
Davy DMX,
Trumans Water,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Toasters,
Technova,
The Fugs,
The Cramps,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Wire,
The Motions,
Marc Almond,
The Modern Lovers,
Buzzcocks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
R.M.O.,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Boz Scaggs,
Chris & Cosey,
David McCallum,
Delta 5,
Steve Hackett,
The Stooges,
Ken Boothe,
Mars,
The Misunderstood,
Circle Jerks,
Young Marble Giants,
Jeru the Damaja,
Chrome,
The Monks,
CMW,
Electric Prunes,
The Red Krayola,
Negative Approach,
Royal Trux,
Ultra Naté,
Sam Rivers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Hardrive,
the Germs,
Peter & Gordon,
Desert Stars,
Gil Scott Heron,
Janne Schatter,
The Litter,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Aural Exciters,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.