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 Lebanon and from Milan.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mexico City.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Minnie Riperton to the grunge 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 Grandmaster Flash. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eyeless In Gaza record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Bootsy Collins,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Idris Muhammad,
The Victims,
Das Ding,
Moby Grape,
Rhythm & Sound,
Stiv Bators,
Kevin Saunderson,
Neu!,
The Stooges,
Jandek,
The Gun Club,
Angry Samoans,
Traffic Nightmare,
Blossom Toes,
Tommy Roe,
KRS-One,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bush Tetras,
Echospace,
Excepter,
Organ,
Bill Wells,
Todd Rundgren,
LL Cool J,
Sight & Sound,
Accadde A,
Von Mondo,
Sarah Menescal,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kaleidoscope,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Fall,
James White and The Blacks,
Barrington Levy,
T. Rex,
John Coltrane,
the Swans,
UT,
Icehouse,
Joy Division,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Archie Shepp,
Adolescents,
Erasure,
Radio Birdman,
Ludus,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Hashim,
Ultimate Spinach,
Simply Red,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Dorothy Ashby,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
X-101,
Yaz,
Davy DMX,
The Pretty Things,
Crispy Ambulance,
Alison Limerick,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.