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 Romania and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Angry Samoans to the crunk 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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
Judy Mowatt,
MDC,
Laurel Aitken,
Crooked Eye,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nik Kershaw,
Radiohead,
EPMD,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
In Retrospect,
Suicide,
Juan Atkins,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Tremeloes,
The Cramps,
Byron Stingily,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Robert Görl,
The Count Five,
The J.B.'s,
AZ,
The Slackers,
John Coltrane,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Doors,
Jandek,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gichy Dan,
New Age Steppers,
Fat Boys,
ABBA,
Trumans Water,
Faraquet,
Brass Construction,
Ronan,
Livin' Joy,
John Holt,
Slave,
Nick Fraelich,
Minny Pops,
Brick,
Skaos,
China Crisis,
Animal Collective,
F. McDonald,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Scientists,
Crispian St. Peters,
Japan,
Shuggie Otis,
Hasil Adkins,
The Remains,
Khruangbin,
Arcadia,
Masters at Work,
The Electric Prunes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Groovy Waters,
Scott Walker,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.