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 Benin and from Salvador.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 In Retrospect to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Scott Walker,
Talk Talk,
The Moody Blues,
Brothers Johnson,
Danielle Patucci,
Gerry Rafferty,
Television,
Moby Grape,
Fat Boys,
Mars,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kerrie Biddell,
In Retrospect,
Scratch Acid,
The Pretty Things,
Severed Heads,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Monks,
Fluxion,
Lee Hazlewood,
Absolute Body Control,
Country Teasers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Mission of Burma,
Pharoah Sanders,
Index,
Bobby Byrd,
Qualms,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Vainqueur,
Boogie Down Productions,
Johnny Clarke,
Lindisfarne,
Glambeats Corp.,
World's Most,
The Slackers,
Eurythmics,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Deakin,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mark Hollis,
The Litter,
Harry Pussy,
One Last Wish,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Scion,
Marmalade,
Japan,
Kerri Chandler,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Neon Judgement,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Fall,
Basic Channel,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Yazoo,
The Zeros,
Loose Ends,
Ituana,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.