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 Laos and from Milan.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Eli Mardock to the punk 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
Minny Pops,
Urselle,
Vladislav Delay,
Josef K,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Flash Fearless,
Inner City,
Harry Pussy,
Monks,
Eric Copeland,
Loose Ends,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Godley & Creme,
The Divine Comedy,
New Order,
Fat Boys,
Motorama,
Alton Ellis,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Litter,
H. Thieme,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
David McCallum,
One Last Wish,
Moebius,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Animal Collective,
The Busters,
The Alarm Clocks,
LL Cool J,
The Fire Engines,
Bill Near,
The Invisible,
Warsaw,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Harpers Bizarre,
These Immortal Souls,
The Toasters,
Black Flag,
DJ Style,
R.M.O.,
Don Cherry,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Dual Sessions,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Mummies,
Pole,
The Red Krayola,
Sarah Menescal,
X-101,
The Fortunes,
The Tremeloes,
Lucky Dragons,
Japan,
The Golliwogs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Absolute Body Control,
Quadrant,
Fear,
Joy Division,
New York Dolls,
Organ,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.