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 Germany and from Manila.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 harpsichord 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 Lee Hazlewood to the grunge 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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rotary Connection record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Motions,
Stiv Bators,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Angels of Light,
Mantronix,
The Divine Comedy,
Pagans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Traffic Nightmare,
Stereo Dub,
the Bar-Kays,
Ultra Naté,
Tom Boy,
Easy Going,
Frankie Knuckles,
Minnie Riperton,
Half Japanese,
Jeff Mills,
Cymande,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pulsallama,
Jesper Dahlback,
Theoretical Girls,
Deakin,
cv313,
Beasts of Bourbon,
AZ,
Judy Mowatt,
Ohio Players,
Public Enemy,
the Sonics,
Delon & Dalcan,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Smog,
Japan,
Monks,
Absolute Body Control,
Freddie Wadling,
Warsaw,
X-Ray Spex,
ABBA,
Jacob Miller,
Lakeside,
Glenn Branca,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Scan 7,
Tears for Fears,
The Tremeloes,
Skaos,
Donald Byrd,
The Modern Lovers,
Pierre Henry,
The Searchers,
Bronski Beat,
The Pretty Things,
Lou Christie,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.