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 Marshall Islands and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Danielle Patucci 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 D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
Cluster,
Mandrill,
The Dirtbombs,
Theoretical Girls,
R.M.O.,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Pop Group,
The J.B.'s,
The Cramps,
Dorothy Ashby,
Young Marble Giants,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Cal Tjader,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Divine Comedy,
Junior Murvin,
Saccharine Trust,
KRS-One,
Scratch Acid,
Malaria!,
Angry Samoans,
Harry Pussy,
Albert Ayler,
Dead Boys,
Flipper,
Amazonics,
Thompson Twins,
Groovy Waters,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Arthur Verocai,
Sarah Menescal,
T.S.O.L.,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ten City,
Wally Richardson,
UT,
Vladislav Delay,
Crispy Ambulance,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Scan 7,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Skaos,
Half Japanese,
The Happenings,
Quantec,
Siglo XX,
The Gories,
Rakim,
James White and The Blacks,
Talk Talk,
The Golliwogs,
Bad Manners,
The Walker Brothers,
The Buckinghams,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.