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 Samoa and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Five Americans to the disco 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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
The Fall,
Ponytail,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fat Boys,
H. Thieme,
Johnny Osbourne,
Man Parrish,
Sun Ra,
10cc,
Boogie Down Productions,
Drive Like Jehu,
Circle Jerks,
Dual Sessions,
Tres Demented,
Tim Buckley,
Blancmange,
Susan Cadogan,
Nas,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tubeway Army,
R.M.O.,
Young Marble Giants,
Yaz,
Heaven 17,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
James White and The Blacks,
Funkadelic,
Arthur Verocai,
Dark Day,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Walker Brothers,
Girls At Our Best!,
AZ,
The New Christs,
Iggy Pop,
Sparks,
EPMD,
The Cure,
Stetsasonic,
Avey Tare,
Unwound,
Youth Brigade,
The Index,
Neil Young,
The Sound,
Camouflage,
Bill Near,
Basic Channel,
The Human League,
Carl Craig,
Pagans,
Eric Copeland,
Aswad,
Silicon Teens,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
John Coltrane,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Public Image Ltd.,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Porter Ricks,
Inner City,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.