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 Tuvalu and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Chris Corsano to the grunge 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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bobby Womack,
Bauhaus,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sam Rivers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Fire Engines,
Deadbeat,
Traffic Nightmare,
Surgeon,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Swans,
The Doobie Brothers,
Crime,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Aaron Thompson,
John Coltrane,
Steve Hackett,
Maleditus Sound,
Reagan Youth,
10cc,
The Busters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Durutti Column,
Jacques Brel,
It's A Beautiful Day,
a-ha,
The Selecter,
Juan Atkins,
Arab on Radar,
Alphaville,
Make Up,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bobby Hutcherson,
PIL,
The Sound,
Delta 5,
Symarip,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Model 500,
Grey Daturas,
John Foxx,
Sister Nancy,
La Düsseldorf,
Sonic Youth,
Con Funk Shun,
David McCallum,
Intrusion,
Deakin,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Delon & Dalcan,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Five Americans,
KRS-One,
Bobby Byrd,
Mary Jane Girls,
Radiohead,
Ituana,
Quadrant,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.