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 India and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
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 Agitation Free to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythm & Sound,
ABC,
The Evens,
John Holt,
The Doors,
Sällskapet,
Masters at Work,
Bang On A Can,
Lightning Bolt,
Bronski Beat,
La Düsseldorf,
David Axelrod,
John Foxx,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
DNA,
Amazonics,
Minny Pops,
Alice Coltrane,
Niagra,
Gastr Del Sol,
Joe Finger,
Fatback Band,
June Days,
The Techniques,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Trojans,
Todd Terry,
The Beau Brummels,
Black Pus,
T.S.O.L.,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bill Wells,
Ultra Naté,
Black Bananas,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bauhaus,
Alton Ellis,
the Human League,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Remains,
Gong,
Eurythmics,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Magma,
Das Ding,
Joe Smooth,
The Modern Lovers,
David Bowie,
Arthur Verocai,
Cybotron,
The Monks,
Visage,
Liliput,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Shadows of Knight,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Dead C,
T. Rex,
Goldenarms,
Mission of Burma,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.