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 Seychelles and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Japan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Schoolly D,
Qualms,
Ohio Players,
Moss Icon,
Make Up,
The Offenders,
Altered Images,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Remains,
Mary Jane Girls,
Can,
Man Eating Sloth,
Boz Scaggs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Flash Fearless,
cv313,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Detroit Cobras,
Archie Shepp,
the Germs,
Livin' Joy,
Aswad,
Skarface,
The Stooges,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Idris Muhammad,
Skriet,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Derrick May,
The Shadows of Knight,
Black Pus,
Stetsasonic,
Cluster,
Sam Rivers,
X-101,
Jandek,
Lower 48,
Roger Hodgson,
The Angels of Light,
Cymande,
The Victims,
Eve St. Jones,
Young Marble Giants,
Steve Hackett,
Fela Kuti,
the Fania All-Stars,
Wolf Eyes,
Peter & Gordon,
Echospace,
Maleditus Sound,
Unwound,
The Cramps,
The Motions,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Alarm Clocks,
Swans,
ABC,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Silicon Teens,
These Immortal Souls,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.