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 Croatia and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Ossler to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Raincoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Boz Scaggs,
Scion,
Deepchord,
Donald Byrd,
Johnny Osbourne,
Dorothy Ashby,
New York Dolls,
Toni Rubio,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sister Nancy,
Soft Cell,
John Lydon,
Hot Snakes,
Tomorrow,
Kenny Larkin,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tubeway Army,
Eli Mardock,
Rites of Spring,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
48th St. Collective,
Sound Behaviour,
David Bowie,
Swans,
Oblivians,
The Stooges,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Electric Prunes,
Grey Daturas,
Sex Pistols,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Public Enemy,
Harpers Bizarre,
Guru Guru,
Mr. Review,
Loose Ends,
The Cramps,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Move,
Andrew Hill,
Unrelated Segments,
ABC,
Yellowson,
Oneida,
Charles Mingus,
H. Thieme,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Junior Murvin,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Divine Comedy,
ABBA,
The Offenders,
Cheater Slicks,
The Residents,
Nick Fraelich,
The Durutti Column,
Malaria!,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.