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 Tajikistan and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Shadows of Knight to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kenny Larkin,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Throbbing Gristle,
David Axelrod,
Avey Tare,
Bush Tetras,
Warren Ellis,
EPMD,
Panda Bear,
Bootsy Collins,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Minnie Riperton,
Silicon Teens,
Alton Ellis,
Scrapy,
the Germs,
The Pretty Things,
X-101,
Black Pus,
Yusef Lateef,
Black Flag,
The Gories,
Ice-T,
Moby Grape,
The Dirtbombs,
MDC,
Heaven 17,
Neu!,
Monks,
Pagans,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Unrelated Segments,
Jerry's Kids,
F. McDonald,
Yaz,
The Buckinghams,
Faraquet,
Rotary Connection,
Aaron Thompson,
Donald Byrd,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pantytec,
The Associates,
Zero Boys,
Harpers Bizarre,
Easy Going,
Jesper Dahlback,
Girls At Our Best!,
Howard Jones,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Inner City,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Electric Prunes,
Das Ding,
The Litter,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Dorothy Ashby,
Adolescents,
Barbara Tucker,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.