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 Kosovo and from Lille.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Popol Vuh to the dance 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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
Aural Exciters,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Drive Like Jehu,
Pussy Galore,
Parry Music,
Alice Coltrane,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Rekid,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Martian,
48th St. Collective,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Dirtbombs,
Ken Boothe,
Gichy Dan,
Sight & Sound,
Al Stewart,
Qualms,
Dead Boys,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cluster,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Smiths,
Joensuu 1685,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Robert Hood,
The Music Machine,
Man Eating Sloth,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lee Hazlewood,
Malaria!,
Outsiders,
The Blues Magoos,
Patti Smith,
The Skatalites,
The Star Department,
Alphaville,
Basic Channel,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Clear Light,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Anakelly,
FM Einheit,
Jacques Brel,
Bauhaus,
Animal Collective,
The New Christs,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Gap Band,
Eddi Front,
Scientists,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Babytalk,
Stetsasonic,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.