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 Belize 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 rhodes 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 Q and Not U to the crunk 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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soulsonic Force,
Joy Division,
The Smoke,
Ornette Coleman,
The Smiths,
a-ha,
The Neon Judgement,
Infiniti,
The Vogues,
Depeche Mode,
The Birthday Party,
CMW,
Pole,
Tommy Roe,
Grey Daturas,
Iggy Pop,
Television,
The Litter,
Alice Coltrane,
The Offenders,
Sex Pistols,
the Bar-Kays,
The Doobie Brothers,
Brass Construction,
Chrome,
The Knickerbockers,
Schoolly D,
Donald Byrd,
The Gladiators,
EPMD,
Moss Icon,
Japan,
The Young Rascals,
Q65,
Black Moon,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Con Funk Shun,
Jacob Miller,
Thompson Twins,
Oblivians,
Gang of Four,
Duran Duran,
The Dirtbombs,
Sun City Girls,
the Germs,
The American Breed,
Monolake,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fear,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Soft Machine,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Groovy Waters,
The Real Kids,
Kenny Larkin,
The Beau Brummels,
Faraquet,
June of 44,
Pere Ubu,
Jeff Lynne,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.