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 Mozambique and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Deakin to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Sun Ra,
Lower 48,
Porter Ricks,
Juan Atkins,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ronnie Foster,
Mission of Burma,
The Flesh Eaters,
World's Most,
Stiv Bators,
Television,
Donald Byrd,
Crooked Eye,
Wings,
Goldenarms,
Bang On A Can,
Absolute Body Control,
Heaven 17,
The Doobie Brothers,
Minny Pops,
Babytalk,
Eli Mardock,
Man Parrish,
The Searchers,
Nico,
Alphaville,
Black Flag,
Ludus,
The Last Poets,
ABBA,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Inner City,
Tomorrow,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Kerrie Biddell,
MDC,
Jandek,
The Detroit Cobras,
Brick,
Alison Limerick,
The Grass Roots,
Model 500,
Scott Walker,
Das Ding,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Country Teasers,
Motorama,
Don Cherry,
Cecil Taylor,
Funky Four + One,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bill Wells,
Neil Young,
Rod Modell,
The Music Machine,
Anakelly,
Crispian St. Peters,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.