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 El Salvador and from Taipei.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Kinks to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
Hasil Adkins,
Sun City Girls,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Minutemen,
Make Up,
Shoche,
Kayak,
Agent Orange,
Ohio Players,
Lee Hazlewood,
New Age Steppers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Soft Machine,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Schoolly D,
The United States of America,
Slave,
Lalo Schifrin,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rod Modell,
Wolf Eyes,
Popol Vuh,
The Barracudas,
Connie Case,
Amon Düül,
UT,
Metal Thangz,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Malaria!,
the Human League,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Mojo Men,
Matthew Halsall,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Scratch Acid,
The Blues Magoos,
The Last Poets,
Sam Rivers,
Saccharine Trust,
Marshall Jefferson,
John Holt,
Don Cherry,
Sexual Harrassment,
Hoover,
DNA,
Barbara Tucker,
Radiohead,
Rites of Spring,
Monolake,
The Names,
Jacob Miller,
Bauhaus,
Panda Bear,
Pantaleimon,
Bobby Sherman,
Circle Jerks,
Y Pants,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Smoke,
Camouflage,
Jeff Lynne,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.