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 Gambia and from Houston.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Amon Düül II to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Stooges. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lucky Dragons,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Accadde A,
Connie Case,
Black Sheep,
F. McDonald,
The Fortunes,
kango's stein massive,
DJ Style,
David Bowie,
The Black Dice,
OOIOO,
The Index,
The Dead C,
Lalann,
June of 44,
Brick,
Al Stewart,
Basic Channel,
Blancmange,
Lungfish,
Los Fastidios,
Urselle,
Lou Reed,
Donald Byrd,
Pylon,
The Gories,
Popol Vuh,
Tropical Tobacco,
Junior Murvin,
Au Pairs,
Gichy Dan,
Babytalk,
Swans,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Excepter,
Scientists,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Joy Division,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Smog,
Q65,
Khruangbin,
Bootsy Collins,
Pussy Galore,
Jeff Lynne,
The Fugs,
The Smiths,
The Doobie Brothers,
Terry Callier,
Alton Ellis,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pantytec,
Oblivians,
Harry Pussy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Duran Duran,
cv313,
Stereo Dub,
Dorothy Ashby,
Deadbeat,
Model 500,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.