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 Malta and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 theremin 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 PIL to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Chocolate Watch Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Essential Logic,
Deakin,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Blossom Toes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Deepchord,
Crime,
The Doobie Brothers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Radio Birdman,
Harry Pussy,
The United States of America,
Agitation Free,
A Certain Ratio,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Minutemen,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sonic Youth,
Dark Day,
Funkadelic,
Bad Manners,
Danielle Patucci,
The Last Poets,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Boredoms,
The Modern Lovers,
The Knickerbockers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Suicide,
Liliput,
Nik Kershaw,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sonny Sharrock,
Procol Harum,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bluetip,
Swell Maps,
Monks,
The Techniques,
Dennis Brown,
Outsiders,
48th St. Collective,
Bush Tetras,
Mantronix,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Donald Byrd,
Wasted Youth,
Ultimate Spinach,
Echospace,
Eric B and Rakim,
Moby Grape,
The Doors,
Amon Düül,
China Crisis,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Reuben Wilson,
Make Up,
Kaleidoscope,
Brand Nubian,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.