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 Burkina and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 X-101 to the rap 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Danielle Patucci,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Maleditus Sound,
Anthony Braxton,
Barbara Tucker,
Y Pants,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marine Girls,
The Remains,
Minutemen,
The Happenings,
Joe Finger,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rakim,
Pere Ubu,
Soft Machine,
Talk Talk,
Magazine,
Von Mondo,
Eli Mardock,
Sex Pistols,
Chris Corsano,
Wings,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Trojans,
Nico,
Anakelly,
D'Angelo,
Subhumans,
Brick,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bobby Womack,
Rod Modell,
The Zeros,
Hasil Adkins,
Altered Images,
Main Source,
Max Romeo,
Man Parrish,
MDC,
Crime,
The Dead C,
Eurythmics,
Gastr Del Sol,
John Lydon,
Rufus Thomas,
The Saints,
Andrew Hill,
Quadrant,
Don Cherry,
The American Breed,
New York Dolls,
Boz Scaggs,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Parry Music,
The Martian,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.