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 Colombia and from Edmonton.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Newcleus to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
World's Most,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Accadde A,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jacob Miller,
Pantaleimon,
Yaz,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Peter and Kerry,
Bobby Sherman,
Severed Heads,
the Bar-Kays,
The Cowsills,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Throbbing Gristle,
MDC,
Jacques Brel,
Model 500,
Charles Mingus,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rod Modell,
Pussy Galore,
The Pretty Things,
Ludus,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Silicon Teens,
Eve St. Jones,
Joey Negro,
Visage,
Surgeon,
Harry Pussy,
The Smoke,
Girls At Our Best!,
Quando Quango,
Crispy Ambulance,
Brothers Johnson,
Joe Smooth,
B.T. Express,
The Dead C,
Suburban Knight,
Slave,
The Detroit Cobras,
Scan 7,
Buzzcocks,
a-ha,
ABBA,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Alison Limerick,
Funkadelic,
Unrelated Segments,
Roger Hodgson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Royal Trux,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Juan Atkins,
The Fall,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Banda Bassotti,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.