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 Korea South and from Tehran.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 rhodes 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the grime 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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Divine Comedy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Massinfluence,
10cc,
The Alarm Clocks,
Soul II Soul,
Faraquet,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Grauzone,
Vladislav Delay,
Black Flag,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lee Hazlewood,
Joensuu 1685,
Barbara Tucker,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gang Green,
ABC,
Bobby Sherman,
Sällskapet,
Pylon,
Lou Christie,
Camberwell Now,
Audionom,
Livin' Joy,
The Fugs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Remains,
Roxette,
Bobby Womack,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Gladiators,
Faust,
Tommy Roe,
Aaron Thompson,
Mantronix,
Scrapy,
Neu!,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Traffic Nightmare,
New Order,
The Moleskins,
Junior Murvin,
Scientists,
Soul Sonic Force,
Roy Ayers,
Thompson Twins,
The Smiths,
Japan,
Index,
Nils Olav,
Tropical Tobacco,
Avey Tare,
Sun Ra,
Amon Düül,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Flesh Eaters,
Severed Heads,
Arthur Verocai,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ice-T,
the Association,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.