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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Standells to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and a theremin 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 rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sugar Minott,
Letta Mbulu,
Wolf Eyes,
Iggy Pop,
Kaleidoscope,
the Fania All-Stars,
Harmonia,
Crispian St. Peters,
Don Cherry,
Cluster,
Newcleus,
Jacques Brel,
The Techniques,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Connie Case,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Names,
Gang Starr,
Lungfish,
Magma,
Minny Pops,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Byron Stingily,
The Stooges,
The Selecter,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
A Certain Ratio,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Bar-Kays,
Country Teasers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wings,
Grandmaster Flash,
Idris Muhammad,
New York Dolls,
Chrome,
Sister Nancy,
Interpol,
Lalo Schifrin,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bush Tetras,
X-Ray Spex,
Rakim,
the Slits,
kango's stein massive,
Fad Gadget,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ultra Naté,
Swell Maps,
The Zeros,
Kurtis Blow,
The United States of America,
Gong,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bobby Byrd,
H. Thieme,
Symarip,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.