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 Slovakia 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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Animal Collective to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Divine Comedy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Toni Rubio,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gong,
X-Ray Spex,
Circle Jerks,
Erykah Badu,
48th St. Collective,
Avey Tare,
Monolake,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The United States of America,
Nirvana,
The Victims,
Vainqueur,
Tubeway Army,
Kaleidoscope,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Grauzone,
Boredoms,
OOIOO,
Motorama,
Ornette Coleman,
Aloha Tigers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rufus Thomas,
Pagans,
Scrapy,
The Misunderstood,
Erasure,
The Sonics,
Public Enemy,
Godley & Creme,
Sex Pistols,
Robert Görl,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Fuzztones,
Wally Richardson,
One Last Wish,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Matthew Halsall,
T.S.O.L.,
ABBA,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Last Poets,
Arab on Radar,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bronski Beat,
Q65,
Chrome,
Moby Grape,
Q and Not U,
Hot Snakes,
The Neon Judgement,
the Association,
The Real Kids,
Deakin,
Bobby Byrd,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Urselle,
Darondo,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.