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 Nauru and from Mumbai.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Fad Gadget to the rock 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Marc Almond,
The Cramps,
Spoonie Gee,
Bush Tetras,
Dawn Penn,
Eric Dolphy,
Gabor Szabo,
Matthew Halsall,
Brick,
the Human League,
Section 25,
The Offenders,
Matthew Bourne,
In Retrospect,
The Fuzztones,
The Buckinghams,
Bootsy Collins,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Alice Coltrane,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Joe Finger,
The Slackers,
Gastr Del Sol,
Skaos,
The Durutti Column,
Crispy Ambulance,
Porter Ricks,
Bang On A Can,
Ultimate Spinach,
Barbara Tucker,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mission of Burma,
Procol Harum,
cv313,
Camberwell Now,
Con Funk Shun,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
James White and The Blacks,
Drive Like Jehu,
Letta Mbulu,
Gang Green,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
U.S. Maple,
Scan 7,
The Sound,
The Gun Club,
Lou Christie,
Metal Thangz,
Jacques Brel,
Funky Four + One,
Andrew Hill,
Colin Newman,
Dave Gahan,
Loose Ends,
The Raincoats,
The Real Kids,
Gichy Dan,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.