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 Taiwan and from Lille.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and London.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Rites of Spring 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 The Index. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
Matthew Halsall,
The Mojo Men,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Fugazi,
Lalann,
Rapeman,
Piero Umiliani,
Soul Sonic Force,
Mr. Review,
Visage,
Smog,
ABBA,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kenny Larkin,
Mary Jane Girls,
L. Decosne,
Leonard Cohen,
Guru Guru,
Johnny Clarke,
Country Teasers,
Pagans,
The Selecter,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Blues Magoos,
Youth Brigade,
Royal Trux,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Slackers,
Popol Vuh,
The Fuzztones,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jerry's Kids,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kaleidoscope,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sun City Girls,
Eric Copeland,
Cameo,
Roger Hodgson,
The Black Dice,
The Gap Band,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Knickerbockers,
Agent Orange,
The Fortunes,
Andrew Hill,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joy Division,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gabor Szabo,
Depeche Mode,
Lindisfarne,
Bill Near,
H. Thieme,
Japan,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.