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 Algeria and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Names to the grunge 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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delon & Dalcan,
Ultra Naté,
Unwound,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Subhumans,
Wally Richardson,
Marshall Jefferson,
Parry Music,
Jesper Dahlback,
Q and Not U,
Theoretical Girls,
The Martian,
The Index,
Whodini,
The Smoke,
The Mummies,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sight & Sound,
Livin' Joy,
Marine Girls,
the Slits,
Freddie Wadling,
Lower 48,
Aswad,
The Buckinghams,
cv313,
John Holt,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marc Almond,
UT,
The Dirtbombs,
Alison Limerick,
Magazine,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Flash Fearless,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Carl Craig,
the Bar-Kays,
Kerri Chandler,
DNA,
Kaleidoscope,
Alice Coltrane,
New Order,
Buzzcocks,
Nick Fraelich,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Wire,
Robert Wyatt,
Siglo XX,
Leonard Cohen,
Deepchord,
Amazonics,
Lalann,
The Golliwogs,
Flamin' Groovies,
Chris Corsano,
The Red Krayola,
Hashim,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.