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 Bhutan and from Woodstock.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Faust to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Association. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Lynne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Sam Rivers,
Public Image Ltd.,
Howard Jones,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Gories,
Dark Day,
Zero Boys,
Malaria!,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Technova,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jesper Dahlback,
Todd Terry,
Ituana,
Minutemen,
Ralphi Rosario,
Aswad,
Peter and Kerry,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kaleidoscope,
MDC,
Gichy Dan,
The Names,
Crash Course in Science,
Quadrant,
the Bar-Kays,
The Flesh Eaters,
Yellowson,
The Cramps,
K-Klass,
Tres Demented,
R.M.O.,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Delta 5,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kayak,
Sun City Girls,
Maleditus Sound,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kenny Larkin,
Adolescents,
Lebanon Hanover,
Can,
The Litter,
Japan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Remains,
Deadbeat,
Skriet,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Martian,
Q and Not U,
Blossom Toes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bad Manners,
The Shadows of Knight,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Tubeway Army,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.