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 Guatemala and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Urselle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Selecter,
Smog,
Alice Coltrane,
Davy DMX,
X-Ray Spex,
Half Japanese,
Public Enemy,
Bizarre Inc.,
Black Flag,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Henry Cow,
Popol Vuh,
The Gladiators,
The Human League,
CMW,
The Young Rascals,
Nirvana,
Derrick Morgan,
R.M.O.,
Warsaw,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Suburban Knight,
Funkadelic,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rod Modell,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Trumans Water,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Fania All-Stars,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Shoche,
Moebius,
Pere Ubu,
Interpol,
Sandy B,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Josef K,
Freddie Wadling,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Smoke,
Terrestrial Tones,
Radiopuhelimet,
D'Angelo,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Hot Snakes,
DNA,
Ultra Naté,
Alison Limerick,
John Lydon,
Gastr Del Sol,
Grey Daturas,
Bad Manners,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
B.T. Express,
Tim Buckley,
Loose Ends,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sam Rivers,
Robert Hood,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.