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 Afghanistan and from Columbus.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Slave to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Delta 5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu 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 chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quantec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
Marmalade,
Lou Christie,
John Lydon,
Clear Light,
OOIOO,
The Fortunes,
The Red Krayola,
Eli Mardock,
Isaac Hayes,
Massinfluence,
Kayak,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Slits,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Radio Birdman,
Angry Samoans,
Subhumans,
Goldenarms,
The Martian,
Saccharine Trust,
This Heat,
Roger Hodgson,
Depeche Mode,
Charles Mingus,
Man Parrish,
Hot Snakes,
10cc,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Smoke,
Gang Green,
Motorama,
Youth Brigade,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jacques Brel,
Scrapy,
Sam Rivers,
The Monks,
The Names,
Scan 7,
Ultra Naté,
Lebanon Hanover,
Roxy Music,
June Days,
The Zeros,
Roy Ayers,
Glenn Branca,
Newcleus,
a-ha,
Grey Daturas,
Supertramp,
The Durutti Column,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Can,
Swans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bauhaus,
X-101,
Cymande,
The Invisible,
Lalann,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.