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 Vietnam and from Bologna.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the dance 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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every CMW 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Colin Newman,
Wire,
Rekid,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Charles Mingus,
Yellowson,
D'Angelo,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Techniques,
Kurtis Blow,
Con Funk Shun,
Theoretical Girls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jacques Brel,
Amon Düül,
Radiohead,
Terry Callier,
Sun Ra,
Duran Duran,
The Remains,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Beau Brummels,
Khruangbin,
Joensuu 1685,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Amon Düül II,
Minor Threat,
The Slackers,
Brothers Johnson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Soft Cell,
Joy Division,
The Associates,
Subhumans,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Laurel Aitken,
Moebius,
the Fania All-Stars,
Fela Kuti,
Depeche Mode,
Iggy Pop,
Pylon,
Lower 48,
The Kinks,
Brand Nubian,
The Residents,
DNA,
The Searchers,
Unrelated Segments,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Eve St. Jones,
Saccharine Trust,
48th St. Collective,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fatback Band,
Y Pants,
Newcleus,
Man Parrish,
Rapeman,
Television Personalities,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bang On A Can,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.