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 Marshall Islands and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
Vladislav Delay,
Masters at Work,
Robert Wyatt,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kenny Larkin,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Eric Copeland,
Isaac Hayes,
Eve St. Jones,
Derrick Morgan,
Todd Rundgren,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Smoke,
Jimmy McGriff,
Byron Stingily,
Qualms,
Peter & Gordon,
Gichy Dan,
Lalann,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Danielle Patucci,
Quadrant,
Newcleus,
Dead Boys,
Albert Ayler,
CMW,
Crash Course in Science,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Slits,
Minor Threat,
Iggy Pop,
Magazine,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Gories,
The Red Krayola,
the Sonics,
Blake Baxter,
New York Dolls,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pierre Henry,
Cheater Slicks,
Lou Christie,
Mars,
ABC,
Gang Starr,
Zero Boys,
The Young Rascals,
Monks,
DNA,
Glambeats Corp.,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ultravox,
Pantaleimon,
Fad Gadget,
The Star Department,
The Busters,
Con Funk Shun,
The Residents,
Television,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.